Moonbeams and Lemon Dreams
by Antigone2
Summary: A selection of nsfw stories exploring the adult side of Usagi and Mamoru's relationship
1. Love Potion No 9

So! This is the start of two rather exciting (to me lol) things!

A four-way (ha!) fanfic writer challenge - myself, Floraone, irritablevowel and uglygreenjacket all challenged ourselves to write the same fic trope - and it turned out we all had different interpretations, ideas and time frames and we are so excited to share them all with you! The trope we picked was the 'sex pollen' trope - and my fic is the first to be published of all of them. Keep an eye out for the rest to be coming soon!

This fic is also the first chapter of my NSFW multi-chapter exploration of Usagi and Mamoru's relationship - this will be my focus fic-wise for the near future and I'm so excited about it. I will be posting chapters here that will be continuations, one-shots, character explorations, humorous to heart-wrenching stories, all with the theme of exploring the more adult size of UsaMamo.

I hope you enjoy this fic and please as always tell me what you think!

Ps. the final chapter of Boy Next Door is coming up, I've got it mostly written. And hopefully will not be leaving that world completely behind me, either. :)

* * *

The glittering walls of the Dark Kingdom caves were beautiful in their horror with shapes like skulls and empty eyes, twisted horns and demon faces. On a pedestal of green, damp stone sat a crystal ball, where a scene replayed again and again.

The scene was that of a battle, but it wasn't focused on the movements of the monster or the young-adult warriors fighting it, short skirts and long hair and magical attacks. Instead, the crystal ball focused on a young man's face, lifted to the viewer - blue eyes behind a white domino mask, a fringe of dark hair across his forehead. The image froze right when he was mid-yell, lips parted, a flash of white teeth.

One pale, long-nailed finger stroked along his image. "Endymion," Queen Beryl purred.

* * *

"Hedone!"

The youma approached Queen Beryl and bowed. The creature had half long-flowing locks of hair, half shaved head, half masculine features, half feminine, dressed in robes that resembled ancient Roman garb - if the ancient Romans had favored the neon colors of purple and blue. "Yes, My Queen?" the sickly sweet voice syruped.

"I have a very special assignment for you." The queen pressed her fingers together and blood red lips pulled into a slow, evil smile.

"First, you'll need to lure Tuxedo Mask into battle..."

Which Hedone knew meant first luring Sailor Moon into battle, because it was the most effective and efficient way to get Tux to make an appearance. The whole Dark Kingdom knew Tuxie had a thing for Moon, but Hedone knew better than to ever mention anything like that in earshot of the queen. You don't get to be one of Beryl's direct reports without knowing a thing like that.

"Then I want you to make sure you shoot him directly with this energy."

Whatever it was, it was purple, gaseous, and unusually sparkly for typical Dark Kingdom fare. Queen Beryl had it housed in a glass contraption that would shoot it like a gun, and made sure to impress upon Hedone to aim it directly at Tuxedo Mask's face and make sure he breathed it in.

"And then... you bring him directly back to my chambers."

Hedone could only assume the purple gas would incapacitate Tuxie, so hauling his limp body back to Queen Beryl to do... whatever it is she wanted to do with him (once again, you don't get to be one of Beryl's direct reports by asking a lot of questions) should be an easy enough task. All Hedone really had to do was keep Sailor Moon and her annoying little senshi from ruining everything, which was irritating but not impossible.

"Yes, My Queen," Hedone murmured, taking the purple, sparkly energy and leaving the cavernous throne room with a bow.

Of course, as they always do, the plan all went to hell.

* * *

The empty docks lined with warehouses wasn't exactly scenic in the first place, and the giant youma didn't help the view.

"Supreme Thunder!" Sailor Jupiter hurled her lightning at the monster in front of her, while Sailor Mercury quickly tried to analyze any weak points. The youma was very strong, good at both dodging and simply taking attacks.

She was attacking them with blasts of dark energy, and seemed to be aiming mostly for Sailor Moon, who kept being knocked off her feet in more and more uncomfortable positions.

"Hey, stop that!" Moon shouted, annoyed. "Give me a chance to get up again, it's only fair!" She hurled her tiara at it in frustration, but the golden disc barely seemed to ding the monster.

"It's not a person!" Mercury cried from behind her computer visor. "It's just a youma, through and through!"

"Does that mean my healing won't work?!" Moon wailed, catching her tiara deftly in one hand while peering over Mercury's shoulder.

"I don't... think so..." Mercury said, "but you can try?"

"It can't hurt." Sailor Venus landed gracefully next to Mercury and Moon, narrowing her eyes at the creature before her.

"It can't hurt to try, or it can't hurt the youma?!" Moon asked.

Sailor Mars rolled past, shooting a fireball from her hands. "Seriously?! Quit yakking and just do it!"

"Well, it's an important distinction, Mars!" She pouted and put her hands on her hips. "I can't just be pulling the Moon Stick out every five minutes! It takes a lot of energy an-"

"LOOK OUT!" Venus cried. The youma, seeing her opening in Moon's distraction, sent a deadly beam of dark energy right at Sailor Moon who had no time for fight-or-flight - only for 'stand there and brace yourself.'

The rose that was thrown dart-like into the ground blocked the dark energy from reaching Sailor Moon, absorbing it or dispersing it, or somehow making it go away. No one was quite sure how those roses worked (maybe not even their master, but he was tight-lipped on the matter. On most matters, actually, to the chagrin of most of the senshi).

"Beautiful girls need not be tainted with the ugliness of dark energy! I, Tuxedo Mask, will not forgive this offense!"

Sailor Moon turned her love-struck eyes to her hero. "Did you just call me beautiful?" she gushed.

"Not now," Mars hissed at her, rolling her eyes.

The youma, as well, was pleased to see the real target of the attack show up. "Finally," Hedone muttered, pulling out the glass-barreled gun aiming and firing so quickly no one saw quite what was happening.

No one except Sailor Moon.

Not quite known for her reflexes, she nonetheless was known for being unable to take her eyes off of Tuxedo Mask, so seeing the purple, sparkly, strange-looking mist coming his way, she did the only thing she thought to do - she threw herself at him in an attempt to push him out of the way.

Unfortunately, he outweighed her by quite a bit, and she wasn't able to knock him down out of the line of fire. All she succeeded in doing was throwing herself in his arms and putting herself directly in front of the spray of mist as well.

It wasn't unpleasant.

It smelled sort of like vanilla and cinnamon and Chanel No. 5, and she swore she heard a few notes of Marvin Gaye?

Then it was over and she was thrown on the ground, coughing. Her senshi ran to her, calling her name.

"Are you - cough, cough - okay?" Tuxedo Mask managed to ask her and she nodded.

"I think so. You?"

He nodded.

"Merc, what was that stuff?" Jupiter asked. The senshi of water was already mid-analysis even before Moon had finished hitting the ground.

"It's..." she paused. Cleared her throat. Blushed crimson.

"What?" Mars demanded. "Are they going to live? Some of us have final exams in the morning."

"And some of us are the youngest female ever to be accepted into medical school and should be respected," Jupiter said, pointedly, nodding her head toward Mercury.

"And some of us should be more careful about giving away massive clues to our secret identities in front of you-know-who," Venus said, pointedly, nodding her head toward Tuxedo Mask.

"And some of us are just waiting to hear if we've been poisoned," Tuxedo Mask said in response, his hand on Sailor Moon's shoulder protectively. "All due respect," he added, tipping his hat to Mercury with his free hand.

"It's harmless," Mercury said. "Medically, anyway. You've been attacked with... um... an extremely powerful, um. Aphrodisiac."

"Is that something that makes you throw up?" Moon asked, kneeling down and putting a hand to her belly. "'Cause I feel kinda sick..." She blinked. "Never mind, it passed." She tilted her head. "Now I'm kinda hungry. Oh wait." She went pale, and then pink. " ... That's not hunger."

"But why would the youma shoot them with an aphrodisiac?" Venus was saying, confusion written on her pretty features. Mercury shrugged, color still not leaving her cheeks. As a budding doctor, and a mature 19-year-old, she wasn't embarrassed about sex itself as much as the idea of talking about this situation in front of Tuxedo Mask, who remained completely stoic and unflustered by what was happening - on the outside.

But thanks to her scan, she knew his vitals and pupil size, heart rate, body temperature, brain activity and blood hormone levels were all in accordance with extremely heightened sexual attraction. (Of course, a much milder form of these reactions would appear on scans she did of him during normal battles - as long as he was near Sailor Moon.)

Sailor Moon's vitals, of course, were all over the damn place. That girl was a hot mess at the best of times. (Mercury thought this with only the warmest of affection).

"Is no one going to explain this to me in terms a college dropout would understand!?" Moon demanded, flailing a little.

"Love drug," Venus said. "Makes you horny."

Moon's jaw dropped for a moment, then she inhaled for a follow-up question before they were interrupted.

"Excuse me." The syrupy voice of the youma sounded slightly put out. "Did you forget about me?"

"Honestly, kinda," Moon snapped.

"If you'd just step aside, I've only completed half my mission," Hedone said.

Tuxedo Mask stepped front of Sailor Moon protectively, seemingly to have forgotten he was the originally target of the purple mist. "Stay away from her," he said.

"I plan to," Hedone said, annoyed. The mist hadn't seemed to knock anyone out at all, which was assumed to be the plan. Oh well. That's why you always have a back-up. Hedone threw out an arm, sending a net-like substance toward Tuxedo Mask. He managed to dodge most of it, the rest wrapped around his arm, pulling him to the ground. "You are coming with me."

"What?!" Sailor Moon cried. "Oh, I don't think so." Pushing her way past Tuxedo Mask, Sailor Moon stood between him and the youma with one hand on her hip.

With a spin of her free wrist, she pulled out her Moon Stick, already glowing with power. With one swipe downward, she used it to break the net, dissolving it into thin air. Tuxedo Mask scrambled to his feet, ready to back up Sailor Moon in an instant should she need it.

But she didn't.

"You come here, messing up my Saturday, you spray me with some mystery perfume stuff, and then you try to kidnap my crush?! And I'm just supposed to be okay with this? Think again, youma! In the name of the moon, consider yourself punished as heck!

"MOON HEALING... ESCALLLLLAAAAATIOOON!" She screamed the attack with almost animalistic fury. And, as it turned out, it did work. It not only blasted Hedone, but the wall of the building behind her as well, making a spider web of tiny little cracks appear across the wall.

It certainly did make Hedone scream in pain and disappear, whether back to the Dark Kingdom ("I don't get paid enough for this!") or burned to a crisp they never found out, but it left Sailor Moon behind, heaving breaths, wiping her brow, her skirt and hair fluttering behind her in the slight wind.

"That's right," she muttered to the space where the Youma used to be, with a jut of her chin.

"Woah, that was hot," Venus said under her breath. Three pairs of eyes turned to stare at her.

"Uh... I may have gotten some of that stuff secondhand," she mused, hand behind her head.

"Well, we better get you AND Moon back home safely into cold showers," a new voice said, as Luna jumped from a nearby tree where she'd been observing the battle. Artemis joined her.

"Separate cold showers, Venus," he added to his charge, and Venus rolled her eyes.

"It wasn't that hot," she said.

Distracted as they were, the senshi didn't notice the wall behind Sailor Moon start to crumble, but Tuxedo Mask - who hadn't been distracted for a second from her victorious form - did.

"Look out!" he managed to find time to call, but even has he said it, he tackled her away from the falling wreckage. Unfortunately, it started a chain reaction of crumbling buildings, as the surrounding warehouses began to collapse too, effectively trapping them behind a giant wall of rubble.

"Well, now she's on the wrong side of that wall," Venus said.

"Sailor Moon!" Jupiter whipped out her communicator. "Sailor Moon, come in! Are you hurt?"

Sailor Moon's tiny face appeared in the communicator, staticky and cutting in and out. "Oh my god, help me!"

"Are you okay?"

"Yessss for now, but what if I die here I'm only 19 there is so much left to do I never even got to try the newest flavor of ice cream at Ben and Jerry's!"

A new voice came in from outside the view of the communicator. "Sailor Moon, are you okay?"

"Oh, Tuxedo Mask is here!" Moon's face brightened considerably. "Everything's okay then!"

"Tell her to tell him to keep his hands off her!" Luna shouted.

"Moon, we are going to get you out!" Jupiter said. "Hang tight!"

* * *

Jupiter was saying something on the communicator, but Sailor Moon couldn't really hear what it was.

All her senses seemed to be filled with Tuxedo Mask, his scent, his touch, the concern in his eyes through the mask as he brushed one gloved hand across her cheek.

"Are you okay?" His voice was so warm, so dreamy...

"Yes," she breathed. "You?"

"Yes." He was so close. One thumb moved down her cheek. "Thank you for rescuing me before."

"Thank you for keeping me from getting smushed by a building."

"Sailor Moon!" Jupiter's tinny voice was coming the communicator again. "Sailor Moon!"

Blinking, Sailor Moon returned to her attention to the communicator. "Yeah?" she said, breathlessly.

"We are going to blast our way thr-. It'll take - a- or - two- kay?"

"Huh?"

Tuxedo Mask's hand had drifted from her face to her shoulder, and he was still close enough she could feel the heat off his skin as they both looked at the communicator. Jupiter's face finally disappeared in a haze of rainbowy static and the screen went black.

"Oh no!" Moon shook it and even hit it against the rubble a couple times, but it was done for. "It must have been damaged when I fell."

"Well, it sounds like she said they'd be here in an hour or two…"

"Yeah..." She dropped the useless communicator on the ground and tore her eyes away from the man in front of her to survey her surroundings. They were in one of the warehouses, although the collapsed building didn't afford them much room - it was about as big as half a train car, Moon guessed. Daylight leaked through some cracks in the wall, too - not big enough to get through, but big enough to let in air, light.

Sighing, she leaned back against the wall and shifted her legs, looking at her companion helplessly.

Since the ... aphrod... uh, love drug had hit her, the tingle between her legs whenever Tuxedo Mask was around was less 'lightly pleasant' and more 'throbbingly uncomfortable.' It seemed difficult to gather full breaths, and while she could certainly try to focus on other things to get her mind off him, (such as dusting a youma,) now that it was just the two of them - and he was right here - all she could think about was how her entire body seemed to ache to press against his. And there were no distractions!

Now if she had only been allowed to go home after the battle... take a shower... all to herself... maybe then she could fix the issue - but now she had company and what were they supposed to do? Make small talk? Slowly she lifted her gaze to his, and realized he'd been looking at her with the same intensity.

Oh, yeah, he got hit too...

In fact, Tuxedo Mask had been in several stages of hell since the first inhalation of the purple mist. Whatever the Dark Kingdom had planned for him, (and he could assume it was nothing good,) there was really no point in heightening sexual attraction to this level when there was really only one person he felt this attracted to in the first place. And she was currently sitting less than half a foot away from him.

Sure, he'd always noticed the way the uniform skirt fluttered around her shapely thighs, how her impossibly long hair flew behind her like battle flags when she chastised an enemy, how sweet her lips looked when she breathed her thank you's after a daring rescue. He'd been smitten with the blonde heroine since day one - although considered it prudent to hide his feelings until true motives and identities could be found and revealed. Although he'd figured out who she was - the girls weren't nearly as secretive about their identities as they thought they were - he was sure she could not suspect her masked crush was the same older boy who'd teased her since she was in high school. And he'd wanted her since then, too. Being attracted to Usagi Tsukino - Sailor Moon or not - was simply not a new experience for Mamoru Chiba no matter the circumstances.

But now, now this was middle-of-the-night-just-woken-from-a-dream type of turned on, this was shaking-just-under-his-skin turned on, this was uncomfortably-obviously-physically turned on and she was right there. He could smell the salty sweet tang of her sweat, see the soft curls of hair around the shells of her ears. It took all his iron-strong self-control to keep his eyes off her legs, off her chest, off the plump pinkness of her lips, just focused on her eyes. Keep her calm, keep her safe, he told himself. Think with your brain, Chiba, not your dick.

She turned luminous blue eyes to him, helplessly. "I'm so uncomfortable," she murmured. She bit the top of one the fingers of her right glove and pulled at it with her teeth, then did the same to a few other fingers, finally pulling the whole glove off and tossing it away. She pressed the pads of her bare fingers to her forehead. "I was just thinking, if I was home right now... I'd be..." Her hand brushed against the pleats of her skirt. "You know... Anyway, heh, ironically this is the exact situation I'd be imagining."

"Being trapped in an abandoned warehouse?" He was impressed his voice didn't break, although it did tremble a bit. Is it dangerous to have this much blood relocate in my body this quickly? he wondered off-hand.

"With you," she said. With her bare hand, she pulled off her other glove, slowly. "I've always wanted you but this is like... whatever this stuff was... damn, ya know?"

"It probably heightened a normal hormonal response, kicking it up into overdrive and pushing away inhibitions on top of it," he said. He ran a hand through his hair, knocking off his hat and not really caring. Somehow it'd stayed on through all the other chaos but...

Moon made a sound between a sigh and groan. "You have nice hair."

He made an incredulous sound. "I have nice-"

"Can I touch it?" she interrupted, shifting to her knees and reaching up.

"Of course..." And just like that he found his gaze at chest level, bow and all, while her fingers buried themselves in his hair, fingernails scratching gently at his scalp, running down the short hairs on the nape on his neck.

She sighed, shutting her eyes and lowering her head so her cheek just brushed the strands. He smelled so very, very good.

He sighed into her neck. Strands of gold, silken hair fell across his cheek, down his arm. His hands twitched, desperate to touch her, to caress her sides, skim along her skirt, slip under it... He forced them still.

"When you said 'normal hormonal response,'" she murmured, hands moving to his shoulders. "Did you mean, um, that it just intensifies what's already there?"

She lowered herself to sit on her legs, so they were face to face, noses barely touching.

He clenched his fists into the fabric of his cape, nodded.

"Does that mean you... if you were here with someone else... I mean..."

"It's you," he managed. "It's the drug, but it's you. It's..." He swallowed. Nodded again. "You."

A genuinely touched, delighted smile broke across her face. "Really?" Then, "Then how come I'm the only one going insane right now?!"

"You aren't."

She looked at him, almost suspiciously. Her gaze snuck lower, but the fabric of his cape was obscuring any physical evidence of arousal and he seemed almost as... together as always. "Really."

"I just have a very ... restrained... personality." He let her take his hand, let her slowly remove one glove. Her fingers against his bare palm sent flickers of her emotion through him - and also sent him a silvery memory he couldn't quite place that flooded him with longing. His resolve was quickly fading.

"So that kiss at Princess Dia's ball, that was 'restraint'?" She dimpled a smile at him and tilted her head, and there went some more of his resolve. Damn, but she was sexy.

"You always tend to weaken my self-control," he muttered, taking his hand back and removing his other glove, mostly to give his eyes and hands something to do.

Moon considered. That was true, she mused. Ami had figured out a while ago that Tuxedo Mask's true identity was one Mamoru Chiba, who remained coolly polite to everyone he met, save Usagi - whom he sought out, teased and openly laughed with (okay, laughed at, if she was being completely honest). It seemed Usagi rained hell on his self-control no matter what form she took. She preferred the effect Sailor Moon had on him right now, though, that was for sure.

"You could show it more," she pouted. "I practically swoon over you in battle and you always seem like you barely like me."

He cupped her face in his hand, heart thudding at the soft warmth of her skin, the slip of her hair as it curled beneath his fingers. "I like you," he murmured. Unbidden, his thumb caressed her lower lip and her eyes became glassy, half-lidded.

"I like you too," she murmured, catching his hand in hers and pressing her lips to his thumb, tongue darting out to flick against the tip, just slightly. "And I find self-control really, really overrated."

"God, that's so hot," he breathed out, all resolve completely crumbled as he pressed his lips to hers.

* * *

"Love-Me Chain!" Venus shouted, taking her turn to blast at the stubborn rock of the wall.

They were making decent progress, between her chain, Mars' fire, and Jupiter's lightning. Mercury kept an eye on the stability of the building telling them where to blast to have the most effect (and to make sure they didn't accidentally crush the two trapped inside), while also scanning the girls to make sure they didn't overexert themselves.

"Okay!" Mercury said. "Times up, go rest."

Wiping her brow, Venus took a grateful seat next to Jupiter, then nodded at Mars who rose to take her turn.

"I'd give my left tit for a margarita right about now," the blonde said.

"We have lukewarm water," Jupiter offered, "and a half-drunk Pocari Sweat that Rei found in her subspace pocket."

"Cheers."

Luna was pacing. "I just hope that girl keeps her wits about her. I don't trust her one bit with that boy. Especially with that drug in her system."

Artemis yawned, licking a paw. "There is nothing we can do now but trust their judgement."

* * *

If Tuxedo Mask had been in hell before, this surely had to be heaven. Her kisses were frantic, passionate, and he was happy to respond in kind, tongue delving into her mouth to meet hers, to taste more of her intoxicating sweetness.

She was as overly enthusiastic and vaguely clumsy with this as she seemed to be with everything else in her world. Her hands tugged at his clothing with unskilled and fumbling movements, fluttering from helping him pull an arm from his jacket, to running fingers through his hair, to caressing down his chest. Between her wandering hands and the impossibly long strands of hair falling across his face, arms, neck, it was like she was everywhere at once. It was the most insanely and bizarrely erotic thing he could imagine and it was driving him crazy in the best way possible.

He kept one hand on her waist, steadying her, the other cradled the back of her head, fingers luxuriating in the hair he wound around his fingers. They had started with her still kneeling beside him, but now somehow she was half-straddling him, melting into him, and he had enough common sense left to know tumbling to the ground would be slightly painful when the ground was dirty concrete.

"Hold on," he managed to say, bracing himself against the ground with one hand. The other unhooked the cape from his neck and he turned to spread it on the floor. Sailor Moon sat back on her knees, catching her breath, her body immediately protesting the lack of closeness.

When he turned to face her again, she literally made grabby hands toward him until he embraced her again. This time her mouth found his neck, where she (or maybe he'd done it, it was fuzzy) had begun to unbutton his shirt - and she pressed her lips - and then swirled her tongue - to the pulse point there. Eyes rolling back slightly, he pulled her down onto the cape with a groan.

* * *

"This is taking forever!" Luna complained.

"Would you like to take a turn?" Mars snapped, sitting down hard next to Venus.

"At least she knows we are coming for her," Mercury said.

Venus smirked. "So is he, I bet, right about now."

Mars rolled her eyes. "Usagi is a lovesick spaz, but Tuxedo Mask as been nothing but respectful and almost distant with her." She took a swig of water. "He's also stoic as hell. Magic sex dust or no, I don't see him doing anything crazy."

* * *

"I can't get it... off..." she hissed in frustration, pulling the neck of her uniform. His hands were tantalizing her through the thick fabric and she wanted them on her bare skin, like, yesterday. But the enchanted clothing was not made to be removed by human hands, and it was giving its mistress all kinds of trouble.

"Hold on," he murmured, grabbing the top of her uniform's neckline in his teeth. Then, the sound of fabric ripping made Sailor Moon gasp out loud. Suddenly, she was finally able to wiggle her arms out of the bodice of her uniform, and with his help push it down past her waist. Then his mouth was on her flesh, her head thrown back while she bit back a moan.

* * *

"Does Usagi have condoms in her subspace pocket?" Venus asked, suddenly, pausing her attack and looking very worried.

"Hurry please!" Luna said.

"I'm pretty sure I made sure to give her some last time we went to Condomania in Harajuku," Venus said, looking relieved again.

"Hurry please!"

* * *

A muffled blast shook Moon and Mask from where they lay, entangled in each other's arms basking in the afterglow. Hair mussed and half falling out of her odango'ed style, Moon sat up and covered her mouth with her hand.

"Oh no, they are almost here!" No WAY that was two hours! she thought.

Tuxedo Mask sat up, and began gathering their clothing from where it was strewn around them (some things thrown a rather impressive distance away). He had by far more little pieces to put together, but Moon's uniform was practically shredded.

She held it up and sighed. "Mr. Self-Control," she said, nodding sagely.

Unable to stop himself, he caught her face in his hand and pulled her toward him for one long, passionate kiss. "I find self-control really, really overrated," he said, against her lips.

"I know what I can do," Sailor Moon said quietly. "I can fix everything, but I have to... detransform and transform again."

He nodded, slowly. She met his eyes, almost apologetically. "Can you... not look?"

"I wouldn't dream of it," he said. It was her secret to keep.

He turned away, watching the light dance on the wall as the presence behind him changed. Became... smaller. More vulnerable. Then, "Moon Prism Power... Make Up!" the familiar power surge, the flow through his veins, the familiar connection and Sailor Moon was once again standing behind him.

"Okay," she said, and only then did he face her.

And she was right. She stood before him in her complete uniform - bow tied and shiny, bodice unripped, skirt straight - not a even hair out of place.

As if nothing had ever happened. He gave her a sad half smile and she returned it, as if saying 'yeah, I know.'

It was then the senshi blasted through the rock.

"Sailor Moon!" "Are you okay?!" "Well, you still have your clothes on, that's good." "Or bad, depending on how you look at it." "Venus, really?!" "Sailor Moon, HONESTLY! It's definitely time for you to go home!"

From the circle of senshi and cats, Sailor Moon searched out Tuxedo Mask's gaze.

"Thank you, as always, senshi, for the rescue," he said. He bowed slightly to Sailor Moon. "Farewell."

"Bye," she whispered, meeting his eyes through the mask for one last, charged moment.

Just like that, he was gone.

"Pulling his disappearing act again, huh?" Mars said, shaking her head ruefully. "Well, some things never change."

"C'mon." Jupiter swung a strong arm around Sailor Moon's shoulders. "Let's get you home."

"Home sounds good," she sighed.

Well, Usagi considered, as his scent lingered on her even after transforming back in civilian clothing, Tomorrow at the Crown should be interesting...


	2. Private Party

Hi all!

I hope you enjoyed everyone else's take on the 4 Writers 1 Prompt take - if you haven't checked out FloraOne's La Douleur Exquise, Irritablevowel's All Fun With Love and Orbs, or Uglygreenjacket's Completely Under Control, please do so right now! I'll wait!

Here's the next one-shot in the Moonbeams and Lemon Dreams series. It's a post-Stars canon PWP one-shot. :). It's VERY NSFW, and rated 18+.

I am considering a possible sequel to Love Potion No. 9, but it's kinda going off the rails, so we'll see. But for now, we can consider a one-shot as I continue this collection. mwah!

* * *

 **Private Party**

The party was crowded, music thrumming with a bass that seemed to shake through Mamoru's bones. The crowd of his classmates, people he didn't necessarily like under the best of circumstances, but who, now with eyes glassy with alcohol, were slapping him on the back and laughing and talking loudly over the music, beer slopping out of plastic cups. Girls were letting oversized sweaters slip off their shoulders, stumbling around with loud giggles and smudged lipstick.

"So... this is fun for you?" he asked his girlfriend, who just looked at him and laughed delightedly.

"Yes!" Usagi answered, looking around her in utter rapture. "It's like a party in a movie!" She bounced happily, surveying the college girls around her and then looking down and seeming to approve of her own mini-skirt and kitty-cat thigh-highs combo.

On the drive over, Mamoru had lectured her a bit, "You know, you could go to your own college parties, if you had decided to just go to college."

"Yeah but I heard that involves studying," she'd said, making a face at him from where she was applying mascara in the flip-down mirror. She was actually happy in her post-high school job but Mamoru was in his last year at Keio University and if she'd ever wanted to join him at one their infamous house parties now that she was old enough, this was literally her last chance.

It'd taken a lot of begging, and some ... softening of Mamoru's resolve, but at this point Usagi was pretty good at wearing him down. He'd finally agreed, grudgingly, and now he found himself downing lukewarm beer in some dormitory common room counting the minutes until they could leave. But at least Usagi was having a good time, he thought, smiling at her. She was her usual social-butterfly self, giggling from group of students to group of students, beer in hand, getting refills here and there.

Feeling the fuzzy effects of the alcohol, Mamoru sat heavily on a corner chair and just watched her, the shimmering swirl of her pigtails, the tantalizing glimpse of upper thigh when she bent to help herself to the snacks that were out, the creamy skin of her stomach peaking out from under her crop-top sweater. He sighed, taking in her appearance with a shameless lustful gaze. He ached to touch her but that would mean leaving the chair, and the more he watched the shape of her ass in that mini-skirt the less comfortable walking would be.

He might not be the only man admiring the adorable swing of her hips in that miniskirt, the luxurious fall of her blonde waves of hair, but he didn't feel any jealousy at Usagi's friendly nature. Growing up from the flustered and blushing girl who hadn't known what do under Haruka's winks and Seiya's smirk, Usagi had honed an extraordinary talent at being sweet and open while keeping flirtations firmly at arm's length. Mamoru supposed one would have to, with those legs.

"Are you here alone?" a voice said, and he blinked up at a girl in a very low-cut sweater wearing dark lipstick. She was leaning over the side of his chair, smiling flirtatiously at him. Mamoru groaned inwardly. Since he'd finally gotten over his hang ups and let his classmates know he was in a serious relationship, this was generally something he hadn't had to deal with. He, unfortunately, never did learn Usagi's trick for how to deal with this.

"I'm here with her...," he managed to croak out, nodding his head toward Usagi, who seemed to sense his urgency and turned toward him just then with a dimpled smile.

The girl left as Usagi walked up with a raised eyebrow. "I can't leave you alone for a minute!" she complained, a slight fissure of true annoyance intruding on her voice. She finished the last of the beer in her cup and set in the windowsill beside them.

"You wanted to come," Mamoru pointed out. As she stood in front his chair, her bellybutton was at mouth level so it just made sense for him to kiss it, even as she shrieked a giggle -

"Mamo-chan!" She pushed his head back and searched his eyes very seriously. "You are drunk," she said, very studiously. She settled herself down on his lap, facing him, one knee on either side of him on the large chair.

"So are you," he said, and she shrugged, conceding without issue.

She opened her hand, where she'd been keeping a few chocolate candies from the snack table. "I got you this," she said, scooting closer to him and unwrapping one, pressing it to his lips.

He took advantage of the nearness of her fingers to nip at them and kiss them, even as he let the chocolate melt in his mouth.

"Mamo-chan," Usagi's voice definitely had an edge to it now, and Mamoru was forced to open his eyes, even has his lips moved against her finger.

"Hmm?"

She rocked against him, the semi-hardness in his pants noticeable to her now, in her new position. "Is this from that girl's boob-showing top?!"

Usagi may have grown immensely from when they were younger, but her jealous streak was still liable to show its face - now and then. Biting back a gasp, and holding her sides to keep her from rocking against him again - really she was only making this worse - he shook his head.

"I was watching you," he said, then he rolled his eyes and looked up at her with a withering expression. "And then you sat on my lap and fed me chocolate, Usako. Please think before you ask stupid questions."

"Watching me?"

"That is a very short skirt," he said, letting his head fall back.

She giggled again, and he recognized that giggle, and it usually meant nothing good.

"Usako..." his voice meant to have a warning tone, but the last syllable ended in a bit of a choke, as she rocked against him again, slowly.

"Oh god," he sighed, and she giggled again, low in her throat, against his neck.

Bracing her hands on the back of the chair, she shifted her body so her skirt was completely ridden up, nothing but the thin cotton of her underwear against the fabric of his pants. She wiggled herself a bit on his growing hard-on. "You feel _so_ good, Mamo-chan."

"Christ, Usako, there are people here..." His protest was weak, even as he spoke, his hands were moving from her waist to her thighs, those damn kitty cat heads on her tights, the slip of soft, slightly sweaty skin against the silken fabric at the edge of her thigh-highs. His erection was throbbing as she slowly, subtly rocked against it.

"They'll just think we are talking," she said. "No one's looking."

A quick glance around showed Usagi was mostly right. The room was so crowded as to have shielded them, in their corner, the high-backed easy chair half turned to the wall. Usagi kept up her movements, the slow rocking undulations against him, her breath coming in little gasps. He pushed against her, too, just slightly. His hands stayed on her thighs, but he shifted the grip of his palms just slightly, enough that one thumb was able to reach over and down, brush the dampness of the panties, making her gasp.

"Mamo-chan..." she said breathlessly, little hands tracing down his shirt. "Do you... think... maybe...?" Her finger trailed down his zipper, which was straining against the bulge beneath it- and her gaze darted around the room, and back to his eyes with a question.

He swallowed. Of course this was a terrible idea. Frankly, it was disrespectful. And trashy. And honestly, how hard would it be to just, _not_ have sex on someone else's chair in a crowded room? Usagi was his fiancee. They'd had plenty of sex before, and would have it again. This moment was not in any way special, and it made completely and logical sense to just back off, wait out the erection (think of slime molds, think of slime molds), sober up and get home. Or hell, maybe even somehow make it to his car? His backseat had served this noble purpose before. They were both drunk, and Usagi wasn't known for good decision making skills even when sober, so that meant it was up to him to be the voice of reason.

Unfortunately the voice of reason tended to go out the window when her hands were on his cock like that.

He looked at Usagi. "Usako..."

"Yeah...?" Her pupils were so big, her lips so pink, her panties so wet... oh god…

He kissed her, stilling her hands on his zipper. "Hold on," he murmured against her lips. He took her skirt and arranged it so it fell around both their waists, concealing any obvious body parts from public view. Then, looking at her with a half-admonishing, half-'I can't believe you talked me into this' expression, he helped her pull open his zipper, and unbutton his slacks. The way her eyes lit up, and her teeth found her lower lip and bit down over a grin was almost as arousing as her soft hands and lithe little fingers slipping through his fly and pulling him out, freeing his erection from his boxers and his pants.

She slid the pads of her fingers along his shaft, moaning softly into his ear. "Mamo-chan always feels soooo gooood..."

He jerked his hips and fought down the urge to thrust - into her hands, between her thighs - but the game was subtlety, no big movements, quiet, oh-so-quiet…

"Usako-" his voice was half-whine, half-moan, almost begging. Unable to control the movement from his seat on the chair, he was at her mercy, and he so desperately needed release.

She shifted herself and posed him right at her entrance, rubbing his tip in the wetness along her folds for a just a second. Then she sank onto him, in the same way she'd rubbed against him before, only this time he was inside her, filling her, gasping against the shell of her ear, hands flexing as they grabbed her sides.

Usagi was breathing in short little gasps, her arms wrapped around Mamoru's shoulders, one hand reaching up to weave through his hair and tangle into it. He hadn't been inside her very long, but already she was close to the edge. Her knees dug into the chair she rocked against him again and again, moving her hips in and out, letting the feel of his length sliding through her build and build against that one spot where he filled her so perfectly.

Party goers around her were talking, laughing, the music was playing, people were drinking, and her boyfriend was so horny for her he was literally inside her right here surrounded by classmates that at any time would vie for his attention and he wanted her. Only her.

He rocked back up against her, bracing one hand on the side of the chair, one on her thigh, not caring that maybe now it was obvious, maybe now it would be clear to anyone who glanced over what exactly was happening - but his peers had been watching Usagi all night, and could they really blame him for succumbing to her charms when they were so readily available to him? And god she was so hot and slick and when he felt her walls convulse around him, his eyes rolled back with a groan he could barely swallow.

Usagi squeezed her eyes shut and gathered his shirt in her fists and bit her lip as she tumbled into orgasm quickly and with such intensity her vision went white for a second.

Mamoru came soon after, lost in her scent, her hair, her legs, her gasps, her fists pulling on his shirt and everything that was his Usako, so totally and utterly her and how did he ever get this lucky? And how was he now the guy who has public sex at a drinking party? But honestly, he reflected, letting his head fall back onto the chair as the waves of afterglow hit him, saying 'no' to Usagi Tsukino was never half as fun as saying 'yes'.

They ended up staying at the party for a while after that, Mamoru had to sober up before he could drive home, after all. He untucked his shirt and she assured him the room was dark enough there was no visible evidence of anything, "but if it will make you feel better, I could make a big show of spilling beer in your lap?" (he declined). Either no one did notice, or everyone was too polite to say anything, or sex in the corner easy chair was a common occurrence because no one seemed to treat them any differently in the next couple of hours.

It did take them longer than usual to get home, because Usagi convinced him to stop at an all-night 7/11 for ice cream bars, and (thanks to her ice-cream induced moans) they also had sex one more time in the car before he finally dropped her off at home. Before she left the car, she kissed his nose innocently as a bunny, and gave him one last chocolate candy, still wrapped, from her purse.

"Love you, Mamo-chan."


	3. Desperate Measures

This takes place in the Apologies universe (you can read Apologies if you want to), but you don't really need to read that to understand. It's canon, Crystal Tokyo, and NQS was pissed at King Endymion for the R break-up. She forgave him but 'punished' him by giving him the royal silent treatment - he's determined to get back in his wife's good graces (and her bed) by any means necessary.

* * *

"Although she's held out a bit longer than I had predicted," Mercury admitted, as she escorted King Endymion down the opulent crystal hallway to the ballroom for the kingdom's annual Solstice Ball, "that doesn't mean it's time for desperate measures just yet."

"Or ever," Mars chimed in, not bothering to hide the edge to her voice. "She'll come around eventually without you two blatantly simmering around each other at public events."

Although Serenity was her usual sweet self to Endymion, and continued to cheerfully spend time with him and the princess as a happy family, she kept to her private chambers every night and limited physical contact to hand holding in public during events. She hadn't bothered to hide the fact that she was openly torturing her husband, to the point where she had them announced at a formal dinner to her innermost advisors (mostly senshi and other trusted company) as "the esteemed Queen of Crystal Tokyo, Neo-Queen Serenity, and some guy she knew" - in direct revenge for 20th-century Chiba Mamoru introducing Tsukino Usagi as "some girl he used to know" during the contested 'break up' the king had caused during the Black Moon attack.

King Endymion nodded and said, "I am in complete agreement, Mars. Although I cannot help but think the sooner this whole ordeal is over, the sooner we can put it all behind us and get back to business as usual."

"But that doesn't mean one has to end the ordeal tonight, at one of the biggest and most public events Crystal Tokyo," Mercury pointed out, wisely.

King Endymion adjusted his glove, nodding again. "One does not, as a rule, display these sort of things." They stopped before the large, gilded doors to the ballroom stairs, awaiting the arrival of Neo-Queen Serenity so their entrance could be announced.

Mars narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. "But?"

He looked up, eyes wide and innocent beneath the white of his formal mask. "No buts, Mars. I am committed completely to poise and dignity on the world stage today, as I am sure my lovely wife is as well."

As if his words brought her forth, Neo-Queen Serenity appeared on Venus' arm, chatting amiably with the golden soldier. Jupiter walked behind them, and waved merrily when she noticed the group by the door. The queen was resplendent in white, her dress cut in a extremely deep v-neck that ended at her belly with a gold belt and fitted skirt. Her crown perched in her golden hair and blue eyes were luminous as they met her husband's.

"There is, of course, the nuclear option," Endymion murmured to Mercury, who just shook her head wildly.

"No," Mars said, flatly. "Are you crazy." It wasn't a question.

"You're right, it's a terrible idea," Endymion said, to the visible relief of the two senshi next to him. Serenity and the rest of her inner senshi met up at the door, and the queen took the king's hand in hers, but before either could speak, the trumpets sounded and the doors began to open.

"I'm just saying, I'm going to do it anyway," Endymion whispered to Mercury and Mars, just before stepping forward to greet the crowd.

* * *

There was dancing and sparkling wine and it wouldn't be a party Serenity threw if there wasn't a spread of the finest food in the kingdom to dine on. The princess giggled and ran through the dancing feet of the adults until she grew bored and wandered outside to the gardens, where her voice joined in the shrieks and laughter of other children as they chased each other and fireflies under the watchful eye of the nannies.

Golden Venus, beauty personified, walked to Endymion with the grace of an angel and bowed with the respect of a practiced diplomat, then stood with the straightness of a trained soldier… and grinned. "Hey, your royal desperateness, let's not be stupid."

"A pleasure as always, Sailor Venus," Endymion said, lifting his glass to her slightly. "I see you've been speaking to Mercury and Mars."

"The nuclear option, as fun as that might be to watch," Venus coughed a little into her hand to hide a giggle, when Mars glared at her from across the dessert table, "could perhaps be shelved for a less risky option?"

"Am I to take it you have a suggestion?"

"You could ask her to dance," Venus said. "She's been at the chocolate, and we all know what that does."

"What do you mean 'we all know'-," Endymion started but Venus just waved it away, and he switched tracks. "In any case, I've danced with her plenty of times, Venus, since she's started this." He didn't say that Serenity had been extremely... difficult to break.

Whenever he turned on the charm and put to use years of deeply honed knowledge of all her secret erogenous zones - a thumb caressing her inner wrist, his knee brushing hers, a breath of air against the baby hairs by her ear, murmured apologies and promises of the delicious things he would do to make it up to her - he'd be rewarded with a flush of her cheeks and the pulse in her throat as she'd swallow and the knowledge by the reactions of her body that she was so very tempted...

And then suddenly some new memory would filter down the new timeline and she'd look at him with a spark of fire in her gorgeous blue eyes and say something like, "'I don't like weak girls'?! What was that, Endy?!" And it would be all over in a matter of seconds. Usually with a stomp on his foot, for good measure.

No, dancing with her would do no good.

He was out of options, and his wife looked far too amazing in that dress, and it had been too many days since he'd held her in his arms. It'd been a necessary evil to send those dreams to that poor idiot kid back in 20th-century Tokyo, but hell if Endymion was going to suffer for it now.

"No, I know what I have to do."

"I tried," Venus sighed, with a shrug at Mars, who looked practically incandescent with rage.

"Is it _soooooo_ important he get laid tonight?" Mars snapped, as soon as the senshi huddled up for a briefing.

"Poor Serenity," Jupiter sighed, shaking her head. "She has no idea what's coming."

"Don't feel too bad for her," Venus said. "She's torturing him on purpose, too. I was there when she picked that dress."

* * *

"Sorry to interrupt, my love," Endymion said, his hand brushing Serenity's arm. "But I was so hoping to steal you away for a dance."

The queen lifted her lips in a knowing half-smile, her eyes suggesting that she thought she knew exactly what he was doing. Getting her alone on the dance floor to attempt another flirtation, which she'd have to shut down. She was determined to make him go through what poor little Usagi had to go through - three months without the embrace of her beloved, no matter how much begging, flirting, and plotting to get him back that she did.

"I was actually just escorting Dr. De Beaulieu here to Sailor Mercury," Serenity gestured to the woman standing next to her, a willowy figure almost as tall as the queen herself. She bowed deeply, the golden ball gown she wore rustling with the movement.

"Your Highness," she said. Endymion bowed at the waist in return.

"Dr. De Beaulieu has made great strides in pinpointing the location of -," Serenity was saying but Endymion interrupted her smoothly.

"Quantum particles' destinations after unexpected leaps, yes of course," he said. "Dr. Monique De Beaulieu, I've heard of your research."

"Really?"

"He has quite the scientific mind," Serenity said, "not unlike our dear Mercury. She was the one whom I -"

"If you wouldn't mind, I'd love to escort her to Mercury," Endymion said, offering his arm. Monique took his elbow gingerly. "I want to hear more about your research."

"Oh, of course," Serenity said. Endymion smiled at her, leaning forward a bit to whisper something in her ear as he walked by. Serenity braced herself for a romantic remark to be rebuffed.

Instead, he merely said, "You have some chocolate on your teeth, dear."

Serenity's hand flew to her mouth and she anxiously ran her tongue over her teeth discreetly, while she watched her husband walk away with Dr. De Beaulieu, hoping the other woman hadn't noticed if she'd indeed committed such a faux pas. Or was Endymion merely teasing her? She'd have to ask him after he deposited Dr. De Beaulieu with Mercury...

Except instead of merely leading the woman to Mercury as planned, he ended up asking her something Serenity couldn't hear, and she responded with a delighted and almost shy acquiescence. Soon, the two were dancing, deep in conversation - probably about some boring particle - and Serenity decided she'd go see if Jupiter or Venus would tell her if she _really_ had anything on her teeth.

As she walked around the edge of the dance floor, taking time to greet dignitaries and make small talk, she noticed that Endymion wasn't dancing the way he usually did with other guests - gracefully and politely while sharing conversation. Rather, he was dancing with Dr. Monique De Beaulieu ... almost the way he danced with Serenity. Awfully close, murmured words and undivided attention.

Mentally shrugging, Serenity continued her circle around the room, perhaps with a slightly tighter smile. She saw Endymion's hand splayed perhaps a little too low on the scientist's back, but that was fine. She tossed her head and took a deep breath. The dance would be over soon, anyway.

Serenity wondered if she should tell Mercury to perhaps whisk Monique out to the gardens for a discussion on the physics of time travel, as soon as possible.

The dance ended but Endymion made no move to part with his partner, instead, they ended up walking together toward the set of cocktail tables by the open balcony and the expansive dessert spread. He had not taken his hand from her lower back.

Jupiter sighed, looking at Monique with sympathy. "That poor woman," she said, shaking her head.

"Oh, she's in on it," Mercury said, and then held up her hands in a surrender position as three pairs of eyes suddenly swung toward her accusingly. "Well, it was either help him or have him attempt it on his own! And you know how dicey things can get!"

"So she just _agreed_ to openly flirt with the King of Crystal Tokyo, in order to make his wife - the most powerful woman in the universe - jealous?" Mars was incredulous.

"For a significant increase in her grant funding, yes."

"I hope she's discreet," Venus murmured, shaking her head.

"Serenity herself has little hope of being discreet," Jupiter pointed out, effectively shushing their conversation as Neo-Queen Serenity, Queen of Crystal Tokyo, Savior of the World more than thrice over, came storming over to them.

She clearly thought she was being subtle, in her slightly hurried walk, fists clenched in her dress and shoulders heaving slightly with quick breaths. "What," she hissed out to them, "does he think he's _doing?_ "

"He's probably just interested in scientific discussion," Mercury said, soothingly. A giggle arose from the nearby table, where Endymion was filling Monique's plate with various desserts to try. She was shaking her head, pretending to wave off a chocolate covered strawberry, before giving in to trying it.

"I mean, this isn't going to work," Serenity said, crossing her arms in front of her chest and squeezing her fingers into her upper arms. Gently, Venus reached over and unhooked the queen's arms, leaving them resting by her sides.

"Poise, Your Majesty," she reminded.

"I'm not a teenager anymore," Serenity muttered, whether in response to Venus or Endymion the senshi weren't sure. It was true that Serenity wasn't jealous little Usagi anymore; she wasn't threatened or devastated by any beautiful woman who spoke to her husband.

She trusted Endymion implicitly and often was the one to tease him lightheartedly when he was overwhelmed with romantic attentions of those who'd attempt to test the marital fidelity of the elegant and handsome King of Crystal Tokyo. But, no matter how much she outgrew her jealous streak, no matter how much she trusted her husband, no matter how many centuries fell into her maturity and growth as a person, Neo-Queen Serenity couldn't help the possessiveness that flared up in her at times.

Endymion was hers. She fought for him. She died for him. She crawled her way back from the dead multiple times to be with him. He loved her, and that meant that no, it was not okay that anyone else got that specific, slow, sexy smile. Those fingertips brushing up their arm. His hands feeding her chocolate - _was he freaking kidding her?!_

His attention so utterly and completely focused on someone else, it was only so long she could stand this. He'd taken off his mask, was looking at Monique like she was the only person in the entire ballroom.

Monique was saying something while twisting her wrist, a pained expression on her face.

Endymion was removing his gloves.

"And four, three, two..." Venus whispered under her breath.

He'd barely had time to hold Monique's hand and wrist in his long enough to heal the carpal tunnel she'd been suffering from, when Serenity appeared at his side simply radiating repressed emotion.

"Much better, thank you," Monique said, taking her hands back and moving her hands in a circular motion with a delighted look on her face. She looked up at Serenity and gave a seated bow.

"May I borrow him for a moment, please?" the queen asked, all smoothness and light. Monique nodded mutely, giving another bow. With a nod from Mercury across the room, she scurried away as quickly as possible.

"What is it, love?" Endymion asked, looking at her with schooled innocent curiosity.

"May I speak with you privately?" she said, through clenched teeth.

"I thought you'd never ask."

Serenity was clearly trying to keep her cool as she walked with her husband through the crowded ballroom, toward the back exit.

Watching them, Mars' face was a mask of annoyance. "And how are we supposed to explain the King and Queen of Crystal Tokyo running off in an agitated hurry during one of the most impor-"

"We'll handle it," Venus interrupted, smoothly. "It certainly wouldn't be the first time they've left a public gathering 'discreetly'."

Endymion barely registered being pulled into the nearest empty room before he was pushed against the wall with more strength than Serenity appeared to have. (But she always was stronger than she looked - especially when she was angry.)

"You do know that I know exactly what you were doing, right?" she hissed at him, all fiery blue eyes and flushed cheeks and heaving breaths. He was reminded, for a moment, of her as a middle school student furious at a nickname, glaring up at him. And now - just like then - he was done for.

"I'm sure I don't know wh-"

She grabbed his jacket in tight fists - taking no heed of the formal suit's delicate fabric, or the various medals and badges he wore for official decoration - and tugged him down to her, barely brushing his nose with hers. His eyes flew to her lips, unbidden.

"Say it," she breathed.

He could barely keep his voice steady, but it was imperative he do so. Just a little longer. "'Ren, don't you thi-"

 _"Say it, Mamo-chan!"_

"I'm yours, Usako."

She yanked on his jacket again, pressing her lips to his.

It had been so long since he felt her kiss…. too long… he responded immediately, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her up toward him, curling a hand through her hair, cradling the back of her head.

The newly formed memories of their 20th-century break-up were fresh for him too, and he was reminded of the kiss outside his apartment in long-ago Tokyo, when that stubborn, troubled boy finally gave in and admitted he could not - would not - go on without his Usako in his life, in his arms. That kiss after so long had felt like melting into a dream.

This one was like melting into an inferno.

Serenity was relentless, her fingers tugging into his hair, nails caressing his scalp, mouth opening to his with the heat and passion she kept just beneath all her curated sweetness.

After months of seperation, of not knowing if Serenity was alive or dead beneath her coffin of crystal, of her anger and tears, of the turmoil… he clung to her like a lifeline, tongue delving into her mouth again and again.

Pearl teeth nipped at his lower lip, almost too hard, and then her lovely, small, too-strong-for-their-size hands were pushing him back again. Endymion let himself fall against the wall, raising a hand to his mouth in a lovesick daze, half wondering if she drew blood.

"You," she accused, pointing at him, "do not play fair."

"I never claimed to, no," he agreed, reaching for her again.

In response, she spun around, arms crossed in front of her, back to him, with a huff. "You had to touch her like that…"

"She had a wrist problem," Endymion said, lightly.

"And look at her like that…"

He pressed against her from behind, wrapping his arms around her, trailing fingers along her crossed arms. Goosebumps rose on her skin, her nipples tightened beneath the thin fabric of her dress. He pressed a kiss on the junction of her neck, slipping his thumb between her arm and her wrist to caress the delicate flesh there. "It was hard to take my eyes off you long enough to look at anyone else…"

The tightness in her shoulders released just the slightest bit with his words, and, encouraged, he continued. "I'm just lucky I didn't walk into a wall, with you wearing that." He let his fingers skim the exposed skin of her belly, and her head listed back against him. "Speaking of not playing fair…"

She scrunched up her eyes. "Back then, you tore apart a rose and threw it in my face," she protested, weakly.

"And then cried," he added. "For hours." He kissed the spot just behind her ear, and she sucked in her lower lip and bit down on it, hard.

Slowly, her arms relaxed from their crossed position. Gently, Endymion laced his fingers through hers, ran his other hand along the seam of her plunging neckline. Her eyes fluttered closed, a sigh escaping her lips as his hand slipped beneath the fabric and cupped the soft flesh of her breast, thumb tracing the pert nipple. He couldn't help a soft groan - god he'd missed touching her like this.

In response, she ground her hips back slightly, and the roundness of her backside rubbing against his crotch elicited an immediate, aching arousal at the base of his spine.

Serenity moved their joined hands to her waist, spread her fingers and his with them, down her lower belly. He continued the movement, freeing his fingers from hers and sliding his hand beneath the golden belt at her waist, unlatching it and letting it fall to the floor. Serenity kicked it aside, then pressed herself back against her husband.

For a moment, Endymion paused and just looked at his wife - her breath coming in puffs, eyes closed and lips half open, rocking against him - taking in what a gorgeous sight she was. He'd suspected, but now he knew for sure, that she'd missed this as much as he had.

With an expert touch, he slid his hand down the waist of her dress, fingers deftly moving aside the lace and boning of her undergarment, and found the wet heat between her legs. Serenity cried out, softly, as one long finger gently stroked between her folds.

Endymion knew just where to touch, just what to do - how to press and circle his thumb around her clit to make her gasp and bite her fist, how to stroke up inside to make her knees weak, how to continue to press his lips against her neck, run his tongue along the shell of her ear, and whisper "so beautiful, so perfect, so precious, so _mine_ …"

She writhed against his hardness, which had been growing with that familiar, exquisite ache and now strained against his pants. Although the feeling of her rubbing against him was mind-blowingly distracting, he forced himself to focus on her and her alone. Endymion recognized the signs that she was close to the edge, her arm reaching behind her to grasp his neck, fingernails digging into his flesh, his name on her tongue, (not Endy, but Mamo-chan, always Mamo-chan, in a breathless, prayer-like mantra,) the rocking into him becoming frantic and rhythmic as his fingers moved in her.

"Yes, sweet girl," he said, somewhere between a murmur and a groan, as he felt her start to orgasm around him.

Then suddenly, she shook her head and pulled his hand away, stepping back in one quick and stumbling movement. Endymion reached out to catch her and she looked at him wildly.

"I need you now," she said, and it was a command if he ever heard one. She'd already gotten to work on his belt and Endymion scanned the room - where were they anyway? For a split second he recognized Mars' office and sent a small prayer up that she wouldn't be too pissed off about what was about to happen - and then Serenity's hands were on his hips and she'd backed herself up against a large wooden table, hiked up her skirt and wrapped those long, long legs around him and -

If his seduction of her had been slow and languid, this was frantic and tousled and LOUD; the table hit the wall and he was sure he'd cried out as she braced herself on the table with one arm and lifted herself up to better angle him deeper inside her, and pushed herself against him and against him and against him. Her hands were everywhere and her teeth nipped at his neck and pulled on his lip and her nails tingled along his scalp and and he came rapidly, violently, shudderingly - with her name a guttural moan in his throat. (Not Ren, but Usako, always Usako, here in these moments).

"Mine," she reminded him as he wilted against the table, breathless and sweaty.

"Always," he answered.

* * *

"Annnnd, they never came back," Mars groused. Jupiter pursed her lips and shrugged, clearly not fussed. She ate another petit four.

"No one minded, it didn't cause an issue," Mercury pointed out. "Oh! And Monique was kind enough to return the king's mask and gloves, I gave them to Venus, she's dropping them off in the royal chambers."

As if on cue, the blonde goddess returned to the ballroom, and although conversation continued, all eyes seemed to follow her, hair moving behind her as if in slow motion, dress like water around her shapely body.

"How does she do that?" Jupiter wondered.

"So what's the news?" Mars pressed as Venus arrived within earshot. "Did you see them? Are they coming back?"

"Yeah, no," Venus said. "Wardrobe malfunction. Serenity's dress is all messed up or something, I don't know. And Endymion's pants got ripped? Look, I didn't ask for details."

"You didn't?"

"Okay, I totally did. Anyway, long story short, I have bad news about your office, Mars…"


	4. Love Potion No 9, Part II

so originally this story wasn't going to get a sequel, but it was too good to pass up a cute little follow up so here we go! You can find Part 1 in the first chapter of this series. Like that chapter, this one is rated PG-13, not R or XXX ;)

Thanks as always to my friends, my beta bff, and everyone who reads and reviews and comments. And every Sailor Moon fan out there, I'm an emotional mess after seeing the Super Live today!

 **Love Potion No. 9, Part 2**

* * *

Beryl's failure must have made her angry, because she sent another youma after the senshi much faster than usual, only days later, although this time it was the typical human infected with dark energy.

Sailor Mercury assessed the situation, and the others did their best to weaken the monster enough for Sailor Moon to send a healing beam of moon magic its way.

"Moon Healing Es-" Her attack was interrupted when the youma managed to send off a beam of power in her direction. It only narrowly missed Moon thanks to a midair collision with a magic rose - that unfortunately then sent the dark energy residue scattering in all directions.

With a shriek Sailor Moon raised her arm and shut her eyes, when a familiar scent and slight change of the light made her open them to realize that Tuxedo Mask was right next to her, shielding them with his cape and close enough she felt his breath on her cheek.

"My apologies," he murmured. "I didn't anticipate that."

She tried to swallow down the sudden thrumming of her heart, the heat on her face as she realized she wasn't even trying not to picture him naked.

"Better than getting blasted," she managed, pushing an errant strand of hair from her face with one gloved palm. She glanced at him, swallowed. He moistened his lips. She swore she felt the charge between them, like the electricity snapping in the air.

In that moment, he stepped back, giving her clear aim at her target. "Now, Sailor Moon!" he said, and she shook herself and readied her attack, this time landing it with no trouble.

The hapless security guard sank to the ground where the youma once stood, and Sailor Mercury and Sailor Jupiter ran to check on him. Sailor Moon turned toward Tuxedo Mask, opening her mouth to speak but she was met only with the swish of a cape and the echo of his "farewell" as he left.

* * *

"I gotta question." Usagi grabbed Ami's arm, hauling her friend back so fast the usually graceful med student nearly dropped her books all over the Tokyo sidewalk.

"Yes?"

"That… urm, aphrodisiac stuff? From last week? It wouldn't have any, like… lingering effects would it?"

From beside her, Minako muffled a smirk with her hand.

Ami stopped and faced Usagi with a thoughtful expression. "From the sample I got, no. It was airborne and fast-acting, but also should've processed through your kidneys with a halflife of about 20 hours at most. And that'd just be trace. All influence should've been gone within hours." Her blue eyes reflected slight concern. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Huh? Me? Oh, yeah," Usagi laughed. "Oh, just fine."

"I could do a scan," Ami said. "And maybe I should get a blood test just to be sure…"

Usagi yelped and pulled her arm back as if her friend had brandished a needle right then and there.

"C'mon Usagi, it's just a little prick," Minako said, enunciating the last word with a click of her tongue.

Usagi rolled her eyes, turning away and toward the glass doors of Crown Arcade, where she could see that Mamoru's usual seat was empty - as it had been for the past few days.

The effects of the drug hadn't created any attraction that wasn't already there. And now that she had experienced what it was like to finally give in to her desires (and have him finally give in to her), well, once was just not going to be enough.

Usagi never just had _one_ cookie from the box, either.

And if she wanted more of what she sampled last time in the warehouse (and she really, really did) then she knew where she had to go to get it: a certain caffeine addicted medical intern who frequented the Crown Cafe far too often for his own good.

Now all he had to do was show up!

* * *

"So am I to take it this means something _did_ happen back there in the warehouse?" Makoto asked later, eyes wide and surprisingly innocent over the straw of her soda. Ami looked at Usagi as if she wanted to make her her next research project. Minako made a big show of looking Knowing.

Rei stirred her tea, raising a perfect black eyebrow at Usagi. "Just spill, we all have places to be."

Usagi took a glance around the Crown Cafe for any eavesdropping Furuhatas or cats (Mamoru was still notably absent - where could that boy be? Had the potion affected him negatively? Was he at Tokyo General with some sort of allergic reaction? He seemed fine at the battle the other day. Or … was he still somehow mad horny from the potion and off boning half the girls in Tokyo?)

"Usagi," Rei snapped, making Usagi jump and almost spill her milkshake. "While we're young."

"Uh…" she cleared her throat. "You all saw I had my uniform spotless when you broke in so."

"Yeah," Minako said. "Spotless. You looked pristine. Not a hair out of place."

Usagi nodded.

"Even though we'd just been through a battle, you'd just skidded through the dirt to narrowly miss being crushed by a falling building, and covered in dust."

Usagi blinked, mouth hanging a bit open.

"I mean, it almost looked like you'd just transformed right then. Which would be silly of course, unless you wanted to hide evidence of some _serious_ sex hair."

Ami looked impressed. Minako looked smug.

"Girl, you think I didn't notice his shirt was all inside out and backward? His outfit has a million little doo-dads and bee-bads and half of them were still strewn all over the floor…"

Usagi blushed crimson. It was all the answer the girls needed.

"So you finally did it with Tuxedo Mask!" Makoto said to Usagi, delight edging into her voice. "Aww, good for you!"

Rei rolled her eyes and harrumphed.

"What?" Usagi demanded. "Aren't jealous, are you?"

"I was over my crush on Tuxie by the time I turned 15, thanks," she said. "But I'm glad you scratched that itch, I guess. Even if while _you_ were going at it on a dirty warehouse floor-"

"Actually…" Usagi blushed all over again. "He laid down his cape for us."

"Awww," Makoto said, putting her hands to her heart.

"-we were busting our butts to save you," Rei finished.

"Thank you?" Usagi said.

"Wait a minute. Does this mean he knows who you are?" Ami hissed, leaning in closer and darting another glance around the cafe.

Usagi shook her head. "No. We kept it… secret."

"Kinky." Minako said.

"But if Tuxedo Mask doesn't know who I am, and doesn't know I know who he is, then he has no reason to be avoiding me, so WHY isn't Mamoru here?" Usagi huffed, maybe a bit too loudly. To calm down, she took a huge sip of her milkshake.

"Why do you care so much, exactly?" Rei asked, suspiciously.

"Well," Usagi paused, dragging her straw through whipped cream almost sheepishly, "no reason."

"Uh-huh."

Although the girls were kind enough to leave it there, Usagi went ahead and tuned out the rest of the conversation swirling around her, looking forlornly at Mamoru's empty seat.

* * *

Mamoru had faced down his share of monsters, both real ones - as Tuxedo Mask - and metaphorical - as an orphan in Japan's notoriously awful child welfare system. But right now no enemy seemed as adapt at thwarting him than his own front door.

The arcade was blocks away, he could walk it in his sleep, it'd be so easy to just… go there and see her. And he just wanted to see her. That was all. Just look. Watch how her legs swung from the chair, hooked at the ankle, see how her shoulders hunched when she laughed at something her friends said, how her lips would curl around the milkshake straw, how the light from the windows would shimmer off her hair.

But he didn't trust himself around her. One false move could blow everything he'd carefully constructed in his perfectly balanced life of secret identities and dangerous enemies.

Already there were issues! Look what happened in the last battle, when his ill-timed rose caused dark energy to scatter everywhere. He should've calculated for that, but he was too nervous, too distracted, too overwhelmed by the idea of seeing Sailor Moon again so soon after that damnable potion had shown him what could happen when his carefully curated self-control slipped… even a bit…

And now all he fucking desperately wanted was for it to happen again. And again. Forever and ever - and GAH!

For the fourth or four hundredth time that day, Mamoru pulled his fingers through his hair and groaned in frustration.

He had to see her. Just be in the same room with her. One cup of coffee, chat with Motoki and leave. Chances are she wouldn't even see him. If she stayed far enough away from him, he probably wouldn't _completely_ break. Yeah. He could do this. Mamoru took a deep breath, didn't bother to smooth down his tousled hair, and walked out the door.

* * *

"He's here! Loverboy's here!" Makoto elbowed Usagi so hard she nearly yelped out loud. Mamoru walked into the arcade side of the Crown and waved at Motoki. If his eyes slid over to where the girls were seated, it was so quick as to be unnoticable.

After a brief conversation, Motoki disappeared in the back and Mamoru took a seat at the counter.

"But you don't care, right Usagi?" Minako said, slyly, as Usagi quickly ran her fingers through her hair and wiped her mouth with her napkin.

"No, but I think I'm gonna go up to the counter and get something to eat."

"You just finished this milkshake," Rei said. At Usagi's confused look, Rei shook her head. "Oh, never mind, forgot who I was talking to for a moment."

After Usagi slid past Minako in the booth, the other blonde grabbed her hand and pulled her back a bit. "Girl, he doesn't even know, like, that you are the one he banged?" she said in a low voice. "As far as he's concerned, you're just be some rando and uh, this time he's not under the influence of a powerful sex drug?"

"'Just some rando'?" Usagi said, annoyed. "I'd hope I mean a bit more to Mamoru than that."

"Well -," Minako looked at Mamoru, then Usagi, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "I mean, you know what I mean." Then, she pause for a moment, thinking. "Well, for what it's worth, you can really work your way around an ice cream cone. If you know what I mean." Then she winked and gave Usagi a thumbs up as Usagi walked up to the counter.

"Hi!" Usagi perched herself on the stool next to Mamoru, giving him her biggest smile. She tried not to melt at the sight of his unruly hair, or the slight stubble on his chin. Had he had trouble sleeping? Maybe the potion was making him feel sick? Should she ask Ami to scan him? Without realizing it, she'd scooted closer to him, leaned her face closer to his. It seemed so natural to reach up and brush one dark strand of hair from his eyes. "You feel okay?"

He blinked at her slowly, then turned his head away with a curt, "I'm fine. Just busy."

"There's that cheerfulness I missed so much while you were MIA," Usagi bubbled, refusing to let his prickliness get to her. She was too delighted to see him, to be so near to him. "Where were you anyway?" Usagi tried to search his eyes from the side, as he looked pointedly straight ahead. "Did something happen?"

 _Did you have amazing, love-potion-induced sex with a superheroine and then ghost her, by chance?_

"Hey Usagi!" Motoki greeted her as he put Mamoru's black coffee in front of him. "Can I get you something?"

Usagi turned her thousand-watt smile on Motoki and ordered an ice-cream cone, ignoring Mamoru's ever-stiffening shoulders.

She turned on the stool so she faced Mamoru, rested her feet on the bars beneath his seat, elbows on her thighs, head resting on her fists. Her knees were brushing his legs, and he still wasn't looking at her. "Mamoru," she said, in a low, annoyed voice.

He sighed, curling a hand around his coffee mug but not taking a sip. "What do you want, Usagi?"

"I was wondering if you could help me with something," she said.

"What?"

"You could start by _looking_ at me," she groused, tugging on the sleeve of his button-down shirt until he turned to face her and she found herself just inches away from those blue, blue eyes.

And Usagi forgot everything she was going to say. She didn't even drop her hand from his arm, instead her fingers instinctively pulled a bit tighter on the fabric. Without the mask, the plains of his face were so much more… real. Almost… younger. Definitely more vulnerable. His expression remained stoic but his pupils were large and she swore there was a subtle softness around his eyes, a slight relaxing of the tenseness in his body as he looked at her.

"Here ya go!" Motoki's cheerful baritone made Usagi nearly jump out of her skin, and Mamoru slid his attention back to his coffee, finally taking a sip as Usagi dug in her skirt pockets and exchanged some money to Motoki for a chocolate vanilla swirl ice cream cone.

For a while the ice cream demanded all of her attention. First of all, it was delicious, and second of all the cone meant she had to keep licking the bottom to keep it from dripping all over her hand, although the portability was handy because it was easy to keep the cone in one hand and swing to face Mamoru again.

It was admittedly hard to keep her eyes off him, she thought, twisting the cone by her mouth to gather another mouthful of ice cream with her tongue. She remembered that Minako implied she was supposed to eat it sexily, but Usagi really wasn't sure how to do that. She was just eating the way she normally did, shut-eyed bliss, luxurious licks of ice cream, and sometimes exclaiming "Mmm!" when she hit a particularly good chocolate vein.

She supposed Minako meant Usagi could attempt to pretend to … well… pretend the cone was… the thought made her blush and almost stop eating. No, no, she couldn't think about how much she wanted to lick _him_ in a crowded cafe, while he was _right there_ , and then act it out on her poor helpless ice cream cone?

C-could she?

"Did you want some?" Usagi offered, finally, when Mamoru hadn't spoken in a while. Her mouth was busy with the ice cream but that didn't mean he had to sit there in silence, watching her out of the corner of his eye.

He swallowed, looking at the cone. "Um. Yeah, no thanks, Odango Atama."

Usagi sucked a drop of melting ice cream from her thumb and shrugged. "It's really good though," she said.

"Yeah, you've made that clear." His knuckles were white around the mug. "Did you say you needed something?"

"Mmm-hmm," she held up a finger, popped the last of the cone in her mouth and waited until she was done chewing before talking ( _very good manners_ , she congratulated herself). She leaned forward and over, elbows on the countertop. It was uncharacteristically flirtatious, but being this close to him - all she wanted to do was be closer. It was almost like she was on the potion again. Almost.

Mamoru seemed to have forgotten he was acting annoyed at her before, and rested his cheek on his hand, facing her with an attentive - if slightly dazed - expression.

"So you know how I should, like, probably get a job? Like, for real this time?"

"Okay."

She twirled a strand of hair around her finger, looked up into his eyes, tried to remember to follow her own train of thought. She'd only just come up with this flimsy excuse to talk him. "Well… uh, I already asked all the girls so what do you think I'd be good at?"

"Hmm. Too bad you can't turn video games into gainful employment."

"Tell me about it!" She let her arm fall down on the counter and leaned her head on it, oblivious to her hair as it streamed along her arm and across Mamoru's lap.

He stood up abruptly, almost making her fall. "I have to go, good luck in your job search, Odango Atama."

"Hey-" She turned but he was already speeding toward the exit, leaving her open-mouthed and very clearly rejected.

Usagi frowned. She peered into his cup and saw he hadn't even finished his coffee. "Ugh what a wanker," she muttered, hopping off the stool.

When her gaze shifted to her friends' table, they all suddenly turned their heads away in a manner that made it clear they had been watching.

Usagi considered going back to the table - to be lectured further by Minako and smirked at by Rei - but decided instead to turn on her heel and march out of the arcade in a huff.

Honestly, how dare he? Mamoru had never just abruptly left her like that before, in the middle of a conversation no less. She, of course, had stormed away from him many a time in the past but that was _different._

Usagi pushed the door open and welcomed the distracting rush of city noise and smelly air that enveloped her immediately.

The annoyance at Mamoru thrummed more intensely than usual. Usagi bristled at the clear difference between his treatment of Sailor Moon back at the warehouse, and his dismissal of her at the arcade.

Sure, the drug made him sex-crazed but he was so sweet about it, murmuring that he liked her, cared about her, and his attention was so intense and sincere and … was all that lies to get into her pants… er, skirt?

Didn't he know all he had to say was 'hi, DTF?' As if he'd even know what that meant, the nerd. He'd probably say something like 'Good day, care to engage in some mutual coitus?' And even that would work on her, she was so far gone on him!

But it didn't matter, since he only had eyes for Sailor Moon, not Usagi Tsukino, stumbling parasite single with an ever-floundering life plan, who wasn't even good enough to have a _conversation_ with?

"What the hell, Mamoru?" she said, out loud, ignoring the strange looks from passerby.

Usagi shook her head to clear it.

This was entirely too confusing with secret identities and alter-egos and one-night stands and years long flirtations and her thoughts were jumping everywhere. All she really knew was the whole thing truly and sincerely pissed her right the hell off!

So, she decided to do what she always did when she was pissed off at Mamoru. Go yell at him.

* * *

Mamoru wasn't expecting a knock at the door, let alone Usagi storming past him in a vanilla-scented whirlwind of fury. She'd kicked off her shoes and wiggled off her jacket (leaving both in a pile in the genkan) before Mamoru could even open his mouth and was standing in his living room, hands on hips, pretty pink lips twisted into an angry frown.

"Mamoru," she said, "what the hell?"

"Come on in," he said, congratulating himself on managing to inject some sarcasm into his voice.

"No, YOU listen," Usagi said, seemingly unperturbed about the lack of sense she was making, "I KNOW about what happened between you and Sailor Moon!"

Mamoru froze, because whatever he was expecting, this was not it. For a split second he tried to figure out how best to react, before choosing his default, which was not to react at all. That seemed to enrage Usagi further.

"I know you had sex with her, and JUST BECAUSE you were on some bizarre drug that made you a horny maniac, don't think that makes it okay with me!" she continued, working herself up into a pretty good jealous froth, the logic of the fact that she was, technically, jealous of herself - and that she, technically, had zero hold on Mamoru as Usagi Tsukino OR as Sailor Moon, notwithstanding. Usagi didn't much care for technicalities.

"What makes you think I even know Sailor Moon?" he asked, slowly.

In response, she opened her mouth, closed it again so quickly her teeth clacked together, her eyes widening into his so clearly he could practically hear her mental " _oh shit_ ". Finally she huffed and crossed her arms and muttered, "I know you're Tuxedo Mask, okay?"

Mamoru took a deep breath, studying the girl in front of him with new eyes. If she knew he was Tuxedo Mask, then she'd known … it was him. The whole time. And she'd been… okay with that? More than okay, if memory served. But then why was she so _angry?_

"Don't act so surprised, baka, I know stuff!" Usagi was saying, misreading and thus taking offense to the shocked expression on his face.

"Okay," Mamoru spread his hands out in a 'you win' gesture. "I concede to your superior intellect, Usagi, and admit it. Yes, I'm Tuxedo Mask."

"And you slept with Sailor Moon!" she pointed her finger accusingly.

He shook his head, face still infuriatingly stoic. "We didn't sleep."

Usagi blinked, her mouth falling open just slightly.

"You- you- are such a jerk!" she blurted out, hands clenched into fists.

Mamoru watched her blankly, still hiding the fact that he was completely baffled at the petite blonde's anger. Did she feel regretful? Taken advantage of? It hadn't seemed that way before. But why else would she confront him after the fact so upset…

Except Sailor Moon wasn't confronting him, he realized. Usagi Tsukino was. It all clicked into place and even he couldn't hide the surprise in his voice when he asked, "Wait, are you _jealous_?"

"NO!" The response was immediate and knee-jerk and very, very obvious.

Mamoru looked at Usagi with the dawning realization that no matter how well he thought he knew her, he was never going to ever make sense of her, not ever.

"But still," Usagi rolled her eyes, "Sailor Moon just has to crook her little finger and you can't unhook your tuxedo pants fast enough, but I've been coming to the arcade for years and-"

"To be fair, there were, as you pointed out, mind-altering drugs involved," Mamoru said, still utterly baffled.

"And a very short skirt," Usagi shot back.

"Touché."

She glared.

"You _are_ jealous," he said, still looking at her like she had sprouted another head.

"Fine!" she snapped. "I'm jealous of your massive hard-on for Sailor Moon! Happy?!"

"Perplexed, if I'm being honest," he said.

"Because she's pretty-"

"Gorgeous."

"And powerful-" she continued as if he hadn't interrupted, although her voice had a bit of a shake to it.

"Don't forget brave."

"Good in bed," Usagi added, eyeing him. "Apparently."

"We weren't in a bed," Mamoru said. "But if you want accuracy, yes. It was fantastic."

Color came to her cheeks almost immediately and her hands moved to twine into her skirt. "Uh…"

"Transcendent, actually."

"Trans...cen…?"

Mamoru leaned against the side table, not bothering to fight the half-smile pulling at his lips. "There were moments I was transported to another plane of existence, I swear to god." Even remembering was pleasurable, especially here with her not three feet away, smelling like vanilla and looking like sunshine.

Usagi's cheeks were pink and her breath was coming more quickly now and she hoped he couldn't see or sense the goosebumps on her arms and a tighter sensation pulling the sensitive skin beneath her bra. Because, honestly, it _had_ been amazing sex, and Usagi would have more of it, all day, every damn day, if only he'd look twice at her when she wasn't wearing a tiara and red boots.

And that brought the tears unbidden to her eyes. "I really hate you," she choked out, swiping at her cheeks.

It only took one long-legged stride until he was there, and the pads of his fingers were wiping away her tears, and she was surrounded by the spice of his smell and the heat of his body and the tickle of his breath on her face as he bent down to comfort her. All it took was a bounce to her tiptoes and her lips were pressed to his.

It was immediate, like being whirled up in a hurricane but also being welcomed home, his mouth hot against hers, a hand cradling the back of her head, the other grasping her backside to lift her up. Then it was the wall against her back, her body braced against his, and his words into her mouth between kisses, "I know who you are, too, you absolute nutcase."

She'd wanted to scream at him but it was lost somewhere between his hands on her ass and her fingers pulling the buttons off his shirt, and the other soft whisper in her ear, "And I wanted you first, Usagi Tsukino, Odango Atama."

* * *

They didn't make it to the bedroom that time, either, although the carpet was more comfortable than concrete, and at least Mamoru's apartment was heated. And there were no interrupting senshi blasting through a wall, Usagi reflected. Which was nice.

But wait - speaking of the senshi-

"Wait," Usagi sat up, seemingly unaware that her bra was currently across the room and her dress was in a puddle under her left leg, "Ami said the potion should've worn off by now. Like, it was really fast acting and over quick?"

Mamoru nodded from where he was lying on the floor next to her, his hands still idly twisting in the ends of her hair. "I came to a similar conclusion."

"So… this was just… us?"

"I guess the floodgates were open," he said, laughing a little at the expression on her face.

"We gotta do this again."

"Oka-"

"Like all the time."

"Usa-"

"Can we?!"

"I mean-"

"Let's do it again right now!"

"W-"

"And then get ice cream!"


	5. Sweet, Sweet Fantasy Baby

-written for Smutember on Tumblr, the week one trope I picked is "Totally Into Your Alter-Ego"-

* * *

Darling, you're the one I want

In paper rings, in picture frames, in dirty dreams

Oh, you're the one I want

-Taylor Swift, _Paper Rings_

Mamoru both envied and was fascinated by Usagi's ability to fall asleep. It was a talent he knew she'd honed since grade school - the ability to shut those cerulean eyes, let soft pink lips fall open and relax into a puddle of blonde hair and soft snores. Now that she was out of high school and working late hours at Naru's store, she'd only gotten better at it.

Looking up from the book he was reading, he smiled at Usagi on his sofa, sprawled out with a manga falling out of her hand, cheeks pink and damp with the drool on his throw pillow, snoring slightly.

He turned back to his book, but ended up looking up almost right away again as he heard Usagi sigh happily in her sleep.

She often talked in her sleep, usually nonsense, oftentimes food related, and sometimes she murmured, "Mamo-chan," in a girlish, dreamy voice, making him look up, startled, until he realized he was just making an appearance in her dreams.

And, if he was honest, he absolutely loved when that happened. Especially when her soft voice would hitch, groan his name slightly, breath coming faster and cheeks pinker and he wished he could see the story playing out behind her eyelids. Because lord knows he'd dreamt of her that way since… well, almost since the day they'd met. And he loved that even though they'd been intimate with each other for a while now, it was still new and incredibly sexy to hear her moan his name in that breathless, aching way whether he was touching her in real life or in her dreams.

This time was no different, as she let out a soft, breathy giggle and moaned slightly. Her brows drew together and her lips opened in an expression he'd recently come to know all too well. "Yessss, oh, I-want-you-so-much," she mumbled, her head turning slightly into the pillow. Swallowing hard, Mamoru stood to wake her up — he'd feel way too pervy to sit here and watch, fascinated as he was.

Gently, he reached out to shake her shoulder. "Usa-," and then she moaned a name.

But it wasn't his name.

At least, not exactly.

* * *

In the kitchen, Mamoru dragged an agitated hand through his hair and glared at the sink as if it could answer why he was suddenly annoyed and jealous for what was quite possibly the stupidest reason known to man.

She was dreaming about Tuxedo Kamen.

And it was driving him mad to know that.

It wasn't like he didn't understand. He completely understood. After all, Sailor Moon was a _babe_. And in his mind, practically interchangeable with his civilian, clumsy girlfriend. So, surely he could rationalize that Usagi was dreaming of him, just him in the cape and mask, whisking her to safety and… and doing what he'd always wanted to do with her after battles, since before he even knew the whys and hows of the depth of his feelings for her.

So why was this bugging him so much?!

* * *

At a nearby table in the cafe, a girl elbowed her date in the ribs and glared. The waiter stuttered and blushed in a very unprofessional manner. Outside, a pedestrian almost stumbled into a lamppost while craning his head to get a better look at the woman sitting in the cafe window.

Michiru never seemed to even notice any of it. She stirred her tea and sipped demurely, looking at Mamoru with thoughtful aqua eyes.

"You're quieter and more broody than usual," she observed, putting the tea down with a delicate 'clink.' "Trouble in paradise?"

Rolling his eyes slightly, Mamoru picked up his espresso and downed it in an annoyed sip. Michiru was lovely, peaceful company and he enjoyed their conversations over tea (they discussed philosophy, classical music, and whose romantic partner did the most insane thing that month - so far it was Haruka 5, Usagi 3). But he still hadn't got used to her unique brand of bluntness, softened as it was by her veneer of grace.

Shifting uncomfortably, Mamoru attempted to change the subject but ended up bringing it around to the very topic he wanted to avoid, but also discuss. "You and Haruka met as civilians before you … I mean, before you were… senshi."

Michiru was still looking at him with probing, too-knowing eyes. "In a manner of speaking, yes," she said. "It was similar for you and the princess was it not?"

He cleared his throat, "Well we… we didn't know. I mean… we... she didn't really like me."

"The way I remember her telling it, she um, _liked_ Tuxedo Kamen." Michiru smiled like the Mona Lisa over her tea cup. "A lot."

Mamoru grumbled a little and Michiru laughed lightly. "Oh my, what?"

"Nothing," he mumbled, "it's just… I think she still…hasn't really let that go..."

"And why would she?" Michiru said lightly. "After all, she got him, didn't she?" She winked.

"Well, I'm not…," he looked out the window, thinking of Usagi's soft but intense groan while she dreamed on his sofa. _'Tuxedo Kamen sama…'_

"Look, Usagi was what? Thirteen when she met Tuxedo Kamen?"

"Fourteen."

"Ah," Michiru's nod was far too knowing for Mamoru's comfort. "That's an impressionable time," she said, thoughtfully. "Tuxedo Kamen was definitely the catalyst for her sexual awakening."

Mamoru choked a bit. "Michiru, can we no-"

"I don't think you realize how important those first deep crushes can be," Michiru said, sternly. "It's the first time she would've imagined sex, would've felt those specific feelings. Only she actually ended up with her dream man, the one who she first dreamed about, the name on her lips when she first explored herself, the 'ideal'." Michiru either didn't notice or didn't care about Mamoru's grimacing. "She's lucky to be able to experience that for real."

"Well, not with Tuxedo Kamen," Mamoru's voice was more bitter than he wanted it to be. Being jealous of himself, how messed up was he? "I mean, I've never-I, I don't…"

"You've never done it while transformed?" Michiru sounded a bit taken aback. "Goodness, are you missing out. It's simply amazing." She sipped her tea as if she'd just recommended a new art exhibit and not suggested him having sex with his fiancée in superhero form.

"This conversation is getting a little too Minako for me," Mamoru said, with an awkward laugh. "Let's talk about something else."

Michiru shook her head again, murmuring, "Maybe Usagi isn't that lucky after all…"

"Hey!"

"I just cannot believe that you have the ability to fulfill your lover's most deeply held sexual fantasy and you haven't yet!"

"Michiru-"

"Okay, okay," she raised her hands and changed the subject.

When the bill came to the table, Mamoru reached for it only to have Michiru clamp her hand over his with surprising strength. He looked up and met her intense gaze. "Consider," she said, "how easily you could fulfill her wildest wet dreams."

Before he could answer, she'd smiled, took the bill from his shocked hands and walked up the cashier.

"How easily…," Mamoru pondered Michiru's words as he walked home, brows knit and ignoring passersby who glanced curiously at the intensity on his face.

Usagi so clearly wanting Tuxedo Kamen wasn't exactly headline news. Maybe what was bugging him was the fact that she was still horny for the masked man she hadn't fought alongside in years, despite sharing his civilian form's bed anytime she wished.

And the truth was, he'd wanted to climb into that dream with her - to make her moan and sigh, to do whatever she'd imagined and more.

* * *

It was so much easier once he was transformed. It'd been some time, and he'd let himself forget the power crackling in his veins, and the confidence surrounding him like a cape. Behind the mask, with the security of the form-fitting tuxedo against his skin, bounding across rooftops to Usagi's bedroom window was as easy as breathing.

She was just sitting up, wiping the sleep from her eyes, looking soft and warm and just-woken-up in her pink pajamas even though it was barely eleven o'clock. "Mamo-chan?" she murmured, then shook her head, "Tuxedo Kamen-sama? … Is there… something wrong?"

Mamoru stepped toward her, feet silent on her carpet, movements more catlike and quiet in this superhero form. "I just wanted to see you." He ran a gloved hand down her cheek and she colored instantly, pupils dilating.

"Oh," she still looked a bit dazed and a bit expectant, as if waiting for him to de-transform and become Mamoru, her steady and reliable boyfriend, to give her a chaste peck and then leave before the Tsukinos found him in their (albeit grown) daughter's room.

He held out a hand and eyes sparkling behind the mask. "Care to fly over the city tonight?"

Usagi blinked, shook her head a little and slowly curled her fingers around his white glove. The fabric was soft and warm from his hand underneath, and she knew it intimately from battles and rescues and dire situations, but this felt wholly new. "Sh-should I transform?" She surprised herself by feeling slightly nervous, as if this was new.

"Only if you want to," he answered and she - still wide-eyed and a bit thrown- shook her head slowly. So he gathered up Usagi - not Sailor Moon, just Usagi, clad in soft flannel, barefoot and surrounded by silky, loose blonde hair - into his arms and jumped out into the night.

With a small yelp, Usagi clutched at his jacket as the city flew by beneath them, the cool night air a sharp contrast to the warmth of Mamoru's chest. The last of her suspicions that this might be a dream spun away with each stomach dropping landing and leap from rooftop to rooftop.

When he finally set her down, bare feet on a dirty concrete roof, by the humming of a heating unit for whatever building they were on, Usagi had to brace her hand against his chest and bend over for a moment, dizzy. Sailor Moon was much more adept at handling this kind of travel.

When she recovered, Usagi shook out her hair and looked up at Mamoru through her eyelashes. Through the mask she caught a glimpse of the dark sea blue of his eyes. "Why?" she whispered, hands still on his chest, fingers sliding down the starch of his dress shirt.

"When I see you, my blood boils," he murmured, echoing the words he'd said to her so many years ago, remembered like a dream, before Mamoru and Tuxedo Kamen were one. Back when Usagi was still so young, dreaming not-so-innocent dreams of her first real crush, yelling at 'Mamoru-baka' on the streets of Juuban, searching for a moon princess with only the help of a little black cat. Just like then, it made her gulp.

"This was always my..." she was blushing, but not looking away, feeling his heart hammering under her hands. "... sort of my… like, girlhood fantasy."

"Tell me," he answered, hands tightening on her waist and pulling her closer, entranced by the waves and waves of golden hair, of the tempting triangle of skin where her top button was undone, the oh-so-blue eyes and oh-so-pink lips. As always, her sweet lusciousness made him half-drunk with desire, the cape and mask no protection against what had always, always been his weakness.

Usagi was always more of a show than tell type of girl, so she stood on tiptoes and curled her hands through the back of his hair, knocking the tophat askew, and pulled him down so she could press her lips to his. His hands climbed her back, into her hair, as he responded.

Like usual, her kisses completely submerged him in a world that included nothing - nothing - but her plump lips and soft breath and sweet smelling skin. For someone who took pride in his awareness and reflexes, it had taken him some time to get used to it, to being so oblivious to the world that he hadn't noticed, for example, Luna-P landing on his head all those years ago. Everything ceased to exist when Usagi's lips were on his.

As Tuxedo Kamen, every sense was heightened, he swore he could sense each pulse of blood in her veins, each synapse of energy in her mind, could feel her trust, her love, her arousal, surely as he could feel her fingers trailing down his neck.

She tugged him back until she was pressed against the wall of an enclosed stairwell, brick cold against her back even through the fabric of her pjs. She lifted one long leg to curl around his body, feeling his shudder against her, the mask scraping her neck as he buried his face in her shoulder, his mouth sucking on her flesh so deliciously hard she knew it'd leave a mark the next day. In her wildest teenage dreams she'd never thought she'd be able to show off a hickey from Tuxedo Kamen.

Usagi reached over to tip the hat off his head, pull the mask from his eyes, and pulled at the buttons of his shirt and vest. The cool metal of the decorative charm hanging from his neck brushed between her breasts as her top fell to the ground, and goosebumps rose on her skin. She tugged on his arms, pulling his hands reluctantly away from the band of her pants, so she could blindly pull off his gloves. It was hard focusing on something other than his mouth on her skin, tongue swirling and tasting, his touch so familiar but also so new - bolder somehow. Soon both his hands were free, gloves tossed aside, and she'd unhooked his cape, too.

Usagi then gave up on the layers of minutiae that made up the top of his outfit, and focused instead on his pants, fumbling for his zipper and pulling helplessly on his suspenders. Meanwhile, he slipped his hands easily down her elastic waistband, grabbing her panty-clad ass with a moan.

Throwing her head back in ecstasy, Usagi looked at the city sky stretched above them, the moon peeking through the clouds, orange light in the sky from the city below them. Tuxedo Kamen was melting against her, his erection pushing against the silken fabric of his pants and against her lower belly. She ran her palm along the front of his pants, his arousal twitching against her hand.

His breath was harsh and quick against her ear, "What do you want?" It was clear from the pulsing of his cock against her that he was ready and willing, and all she had to do was say the word and he'd be inside her, pants around his ankles and jacket undone, fucking her back against the wall while the world disappeared around them in a haze of desire and fulfilled fantasy.

But Usagi wasn't fourteen anymore. And Tuxedo Kamen wasn't an untouchable mystery, a safe way for her to dreamily imagine sex and love.

Almost forcefully, she tugged at his chin until he was facing her, mask-less blue eyes framed by dark lashes. She took one of his hands, lacing her fingers through his. Those long, tapered fingers that she'd watched spin pencils while he studied, practically drooling at the thought of what they could do to her, if he'd only put down the damn physics textbook.

"Mamo-chan," she whispered, looking into his eyes. Then she pushed his pants down with both hands and pulled his hips toward her. "I love you."

Tuxedo Kamen had a bit more strength in his arms than Mamoru normally did, and that did come in handy when he lifted her ass so she could ride him with both legs around his waist and her back braced on the wall, and he did look so incredibly edible in that tuxedo, and the rooftop in the moonlight was achingly romantic.

But it was Mamoru's name she screamed as she came, clawing at his hair and throwing her head back against the brick (that would also, she realized later, leave a mark). Fantasies were nice, but nothing compared to what Usagi had for real.

Breathless and lost in the afterglow, Usagi wrapped herself in his cape and curled next to him, toes working in the silk fabric of his pants as she leaned her head on his shoulder. "So… can I fulfill a fantasy for you?" she asked, giggling a bit. "Did you always wanna do it with Sailor Moon, up in a lampost maybe?"

"Hmmm," Mamoru said, thinking. "Actually, do you think you could find a nun costume?"

Even though he was still transformed and she wasn't, the punch on his arm hurt much more than he expected it to.


	6. Interlude to Crown Me Nemesis

Hello lovelies! So, this is a 'side chapter' (fic-canon divergent? fic-of-a-fic?) of the fic I wrote for the UsaMamo spring exchange, Crown Me Nemesis. It takes place (kinda) between their first and interaction. Or something. I trust you to place it wherever you want that makes sense.

If you don't want to read that fic (why not?! is it not good enough for you?!) you just need to know that it's R, Crystal Tokyo, and instead of being encased in crystal NQS was captured and 'turned' by the Black Moon, becoming their queen under Wiseman.

This citrus interlude was requested by a lot of reviewers of the main fic so I did this for you! Please review! Anon if you are shy.

* * *

Endymion didn't leave the relative safety of the Crystal Palace often - there wasn't a need, and the bleak ruins of his former kingdom weren't exactly an uplifting view anyway. But something had called to him, in the cool of the evening. Something ancient and undeniable and stronger than he was. He answered like he always did.

His footsteps were the only sound, soft on the brown grass of the dead garden, but he didn't need to hear or see her to know. It was another sense that drew him toward her, around a corner, where she stood. She was fingering the thorny branches of a dead rose bush, bending the brittle stems with an almost thoughtful snap.

Serenity didn't turn to him, but acknowledged his presence just the same - with a slowing of her movements, a purposeful lift of her chin. The chill in the air didn't seem to bother her, although her dress was sleeveless, the white material thin, hugging her waist and hips as always. The black crystal earrings hung from her ears, jarring against the white of her dress, her skin, her hair.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, with curiosity rather than malice. The same first words he'd ever spoken to her, all those eons ago. The words that sent ripples through the cosmos, tearing and retearing the fabric of the universe through the destiny-bending power of this love.

Serenity finally turned, and regarded him with a tilt of her head, her proud stance and confident eyes a far cry from the shy princess who had jumped and blushed and tried again to hide, when he'd confronted her so long ago. "Is this palace not mine?" she asked. "I should be able to come and go as I wish."

"I believe you chose a different home," Endymion said, gesturing vaguely toward where the Black Moon's dark crystal fortress skulked over the Crystal Tokyo landscape. The tightness in his side reminded him of his injury - sitting just below the surface, ready to blind him with pain should he fight the dark energy.

"That doesn't mean I wish to stand by and be usurped," the dark queen said, voice dangerously cold.

He stepped closer to her. "Is that what you consider me? A usurper?"

She didn't answer, and she didn't back away as he came closer.

"Because I remember it a bit differently," Endymion continued. He lifted his hand to brush her cheek, and she caught it - tightly squeezing his fingers together in her cool hand.

"Never touch me," she hissed, "without permission." Serenity threw his hand down, furious. The pain seared in his side.

He didn't stumble, however. The energy around Serenity crackled but she didn't lash out, didn't disappear in a swirl of angry smoke. Her brows were knitted and her eyes wary, perplexed. However she'd expected this to go, Endymion guessed, this wasn't it.

He swallowed. "Then," he said, with a genteel dip of his head, "may I have permission?"

This was, he knew, utterly ill-advised and not at all a logical course of action. Not to mention, if Serenity didn't kill him, he was certain Sailor Pluto would, for being so irresponsible.

But a small, sadistic part of him couldn't stop riling Serenity up, as dangerous as it was to do so. When she was annoyed, almost shocked at the audacity of his actions, the anger in her eyes flashed from dark, evil malice to something almost familiar. It made him reckless. Heady. He could never resist her.

The dark queen eyed him suspiciously, one pale hand brushing a lock of silver hair off one exposed shoulder, and he didn't hide the way his eyes followed the movement of her fingertips on her skin. "Why?" she finally asked, hand on her hip, stance defiant and expectant and almost … just for the briefest of moments, Endymion almost glimpsed… hope? Perhaps he was projecting.

"Oh, I should think the reason is pretty clear," he said, closing the scant distance between with one purposeful step, his face so close to hers he could feel her breath against his lips.

He hovered a hand just centimeters from her waist. Waiting.

Her jaw worked slightly beneath those perfect lips. Then, her hand spidered over his, pressing his palm down against her hip, and he shut his eyes, sighed, as his hand ran down over the fabric of her dress, along the curve of her hip, pulling her closer still.

"Did you forget I'm the enemy?" she countered, letting the pad of a finger brush against one of the medals decorating his formal jacket.

"Has that stopped us before?" he breathed, and she nearly scowled, her hand flattening against his chest, as if to push him away.

But instead her hand fisted in the fabric and she _pulled_ , so it was more a stumble, of a submission, when his lips fell upon hers.

Her hand curled around the back of his neck, controlling, possessive. Her kiss was forceful, angry - all open lips and press of tongue, click of teeth, bruising of tender skin.

He matched her energy, kissing her back just as hard, gripping her bottom and pushing her into him with such strength that the wound in his side screamed for a moment. It was quickly drowned out by the distraction that was Serenity's mouth moving down his neck, ripping the buttons of his shirt open as she went, mouth hot and sharp and nipping and sucking and _marking_ him. Hers. Hers always and no matter what.

The world would burn while he melted beneath her touch.

"You want me," she said, pulling away slightly, all cool suggestiveness.

Endymion moisted his lips, steadying his breath, in a half-ripped shirt and messed hair, bulge growing against the fabric of his pants. "Want is far too mild of a word, my dear."

With flawless grace, she slowly tossed her hair over her shoulder, took a step back and sat on a broken column, leaning back against what remained of a sculpture of dancing lovers. The last of the daylight caught her black earrings, skimmed along her shoulder. "Then prove it," she said, with a crook of her finger.

And then he was standing over her, hands braced on the stone behind her, face to face. "I don't trust you," he admitted, and she smirked up at him.

"Nor should you," she agreed, raising her lips to him. But he didn't kiss her.

Instead, he lowered his head, just barely brushing his lips along her collarbone, the swell of one silk-covered breast, her belly, until he finally knelt before her. It was second nature, the zip and pull of her dress fabric tumbling down her body, the creamy flesh of her thighs, the ends of her hair falling over his shoulder as he slipped between her legs.

He took his time, letting himself luxuriate in the soft skin of her inner thighs, tracing his mouth from the side of her knee all the way up to the sensitive, sensitive parting of her legs. Then, with a gentle exhale, he moved to the other leg, tasting and teasing her with his lips to her other knee. Meanwhile, his fingers composed sonnets, designed universes, drew masterpieces along the sensitive, delicate skin of her thighs and belly.

Each brush of his fingers and dart of his tongue caused almost imperceptible, involuntary hitches of her muscles, skips in her breathing. His fingers flexed into her flesh and she sucked in her breath through her teeth, hands fisting into his hair when he finally began to taste her. His tongue swirled along her folds, his lips humming against the sensitive area near her clit, and she was still that soft, salty-sweet, wet-sugarpop taste against his mouth, the sudden gasps from her throat the same as when she was an innocent princess, a precocious school girl, whether in the heat of that first summer pressed against the sofa cushions in his first apartment, or the exhilarating rooftop after a battle, or the four poster bed in the royal chamber, she'd always responded to the gentle suction on her clit, the daring scrape of his teeth, the deep, eager delving of his tongue into her.

In this moment, her fingers twined in his hair, her stomach hitching with each wave of pleasure - and him on his knees in front of her, vision obscured by her dress, her hair, the enticing view of her, opening for him, there was no chance to be wary, to avoid being caught off guard. But if he died now, surrounded by the taste of arousal and saltsweet sweat and her shaking legs and half-swallowed moans… it could almost be worth it. She was so close and he worked her hard, sucking and licking and touching... he wanted to hear her scream his name, to break the veneer of poise and bring her, sweaty, shaking, begging, to blinding orgasm.

Then it was her nails against his scalp, pulling his head back and away from her, the rush of air cold against his wet lips. She met his eyes, warningly, between the heaving of her chest.

Both hands against his ruined shirt, she pushed him down against the cold ground, straddling him, flipping her hair back behind her shoulders with one graceful shake of her head. Long, cool fingers wrapped around his wrists, pulling his hands up over his head and she leaned down, mouth to his ear, shifting her hips so his hard-on felt her wet heat through the fabric.

"Now then, pretender to the White Throne," she said, "can you really make me scream?" Her teeth nipped his earlobe, tongue slipping hot hot hot against his ear.

And then she straightened, flexing her thighs around his hips to keep herself steady, as she slowly, sensually pulled the fabric of her dress down to her waist, before carefully, deliberately, unbuttoning his pants.

His hands, now freed, greedily reached to touch, curving his hands around her breasts, thumbs circling nipples, strands of her hair sliding between his palms and her flesh.

Serenity had skillfully freed him from the constraints of pants, a bracing shudder running through his body when the cold air hit his straining hard-on. He watched her through glassy eyes as she curved herself over him, nails scratching down his exposed chest and mouth just inches from his.

He fought the desperate urge to buck his hips up, into her, to feel the slick heat of her as she positioned herself so, so, so, achingly, desperately close, barely brushing his tip.

But no. She was waiting, and so he did, too. Held his breath.

"I could kill you, you know," she said, looking down at him with intense burning eyes, waves of silver hair tumbling over her bare chest, the black moon between her raised brows startling against pale skin.

She brushed herself against him again, his arousal throbbing at the aching nearness, hips rolling forward despite himself. He curled his hands around her wrists, shuddering with want. "I would let you," he breathed.

And then she took him into her, rolling her body forward. And then he was finally inside her, her slick heat surrounding him, roiling waves of blinding desire… She knew just how to move her body, to clench and undulate around him to drive him mad.

Her movements were sensual, controlled, poised to pull an orgasm out of him before he could reach her, before he could affect her the way he wanted to. And she was good.

But so was he.

Endymion half sat up toward her, moving his body toward and with her, her eyes meeting his with half-surprise. With deliberate, languid movements, he lowered his mouth to her neck, running his tongue along her pulse points, sucking gently on her collarbone, worshipping all the small and secret places he knew, following her body like a memorized treasure map. He let one hand fall to where their bodies met, moved this thumb and forefinger to right above where he thrust, filling her, teasing her, drawing her pleasure out.

She gasped, jaw clenching and hands tightening on his shoulders. And soon her movements were less controlled, less purposeful, rocking against him with rapid breathlessness. Endymion matched her pace, aching with desire as she writhed her body around him, nails on his chest and gasps on her lips and he kept going, hands, lips, every movement, every touch designed to make her come apart in a shattering of pleasure.

Serenity tried to swallow her cries, to shake her head against the waves of undeniable ecstasy, to fight the fall over the edge. But he was relentless in his touch, and she ended up screaming into his shoulder, her teeth pressing to his skin, the sharp pain of the bite igniting into his veins, so he came with the shuddering, shaking, violent release only seconds after her.

She collapsed against him, sweaty hair and soft damp skin and gasping breaths and Endymion felt himself slowly unwind inside, softening. He went to wrap his arms around her, but she sat up, brushed hair off her face in one fluid, confident movement.

"I suppose you do have some talents," she acquiesced, the wall back up behind her eyes.

He reached up, grabbed her chin with one large hand, gently tugged her down to his lips.

"Please know I love you…," he murmured against her skin. She pulled back, her eyes a warning, her lips a twist of a 'tsk'.

"Oh, darling." The words curled out of her like ribbons of ice. Serenity leaned back down over him, putting her lips right to his ear, plush-soft and wet-hot. "Loving the feel of your dick inside me doesn't mean you love me."

He struggled to sit up, as she pushed herself away and off of him. "No," he managed, his body weak with shudders he knew couldn't just be afterglow. The pain in his side pulstated blindingly as he reached out for her and met nothing but cold air.

She was gone, leaving nothing but the scent of her hair, the taste of her still on his tongue.


End file.
